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
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