Poem By Basho

POEM BY BASHO We were quiet now, still breathing deeply from the sexual exertions of our late middle age, guided by the music, gliding toward a landing through the ambient haze of unconditional love The Japanese singer with the black eyes and hair and the rising sun mouth, lived her rhythm and blues through the discipline of the koto, did a high soaring wail as the final jetliner of the Syracuse evening climbed toward the moon that was a cold silver smile above the snow-covered city where we daily delight in the details of desire Our transition into clarity was the sonic antithesis of a poem by Basho: Seventeen seconds of screaming haiku on a February night!