Kyoto

On sun's golden edge where Upon a night of silver tinted winds Moon slips down on earth's slope And rugged boughs of a dry cherry tree Stretch out of an ancient village And grab moonlight's silky sleeves Before it is too late to dream And I hear the moon screaming like a cicada While frogs in an old shrine's pond Sing nonstop to a stone fox Guarding the sleeping gods I find myself looking for you In a forest of dwarfed trees In which syllables of haiku echo aimlessly And ghosts of their masters Dwell in rat holes drunk with sake While pigeons fly between gently swinging Paper lanterns occasionally shedding Incensed feathers here and there Kyoto defies impermanence of life But appears hurt by vicissitudes of love When I finally touch your face On a geisha's kimono I become a wandering hamlet As defiant and ancient As Kyoto