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!
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