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ALOFT
As a child I often flew kites, which is to say that I ran haphazardly pulling a string and dragging a wood frames paper rhombus across the park. My father laughed until seeing me on the edge of tears he took up the string and dragged the kite across the park. One day a strong…
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BRIEF THOUGHTS (3 HAIKU)
In the sunlit park the small dog watches the man go fetch the thrown ball Maple leaves emerge almost certain that winter is now history A rain of petals cherry snow covers the ground we await the fruit.
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THE AUTUMN OF SPRING
Spring has arrived, however begrudgingly, and the young woman pushes the older woman’s wheelchair along the paths of the great park. Neither speaks, but each knows this could be the last time they do this. That shared knowledge paints each flower in a more vibrant hue, each fallen petal is quickly but individually mourned for,…
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THE COLOR OF BEAUTY
They sat on the bench in the park looking out on the small lake, two ducks swimming slowly in circles. “Dawn is the most beautiful moment of the day, the sun chasing the moon and setting the sky ablaze, orange, crimson, flame, there is simply nothing,” he said, “in the world quite like it.” “It…
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A MURDEROUS CACOPHONY
The crows were at it in the park today, unable, it seemed, to agree on anything and unwilling to let any other have the last word. I asked them to stop, and that bought all of fifteen seconds of peace before one decided the debate needed to go on. It was a cacophony hard on…
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CECI N’EST PAS UN PARC
This morning over the Park a Magritte sky is hung. Several birds gather in an old oak to discuss this, twittering thoughts in surprise. Their conclusions fly off at the approach of a black lab joyously frolicking in imagined freedom.
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ONLY NOW
Tomorrow, in all likelihood, the park will still be there, we will still be walking there, the Austrian Pines will still stare down at us on the path, and the cardinal will flash by, his cry for attention in a red blaze. Tomorrow all this will likely happen as it did yesterday and last week,…
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CROW DANCE
Sunday They gather in the trees remarkably silent one speaks their morning prayers and they return home. Monday Only three arrive to commentate our morning walk. We appreciate the silence. Tuesday There is a reason for all sentient creatures but the crow tests our credulity. Wednesday A wintered branch breaks under the weight of the…
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TEINEI-SA 丁寧さ
He crawls out from under the blue tarp strung between two trees and a park bench with the first light of morning breaking over Shinjuku Chuo park, slowly erasing the shadows cast by the Metropolitan Government Building. He neatens the surrounding concrete, ready for the soon to be arriving crowd that appear each morning for…
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TENT CITY
From my window on the twenty-sixth floor they appear as so many blue roofs, arranged in small villages in Shinjuku-Chuo Park below. At 6:30 in the morning many older Japanese gather in sweater vests and hats despite the humidity to perform the tai chi ritual. Nearby hands and feet emerge from blue tarp tents crammed…
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an old writer and his words 