Thursday, November 22, 2018

Letter From Fukushima :: Koyomi











Omote




a glance and a nod
then right out that door
deep spring snow


the moving guys squat
wrestling the quilt box


ebb tide
releases its grip
on our indiscretion


in a jerry built shack
beneath comma shaped clouds


timid steps
on the icy slate, moonlight
through an iron grate


two wet cocktail rings
merge on top the bar




Ura




after we finish
belly laughs
wobble the bed springs


wings of geese beat
auguries into the wind


this new appliance
sends a text
when the colors are done


in haikai spirit
a letter from Fukushima


trumpet vine
and gospel hymns
rise above the sea wall


the bright sting of salt
on still morning air







February 2, 2011, edited

bandit / govindajohn








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