November 2

The temple bell sets
the world a-shiver,
your corner of it anyway.

Circle the main hall
a few times; it’s
the least you can do.

With its bulk as fulcrum,
take in a skedaddling kid
on a bike one season too small,
some gorgeously green moss,
and a girl just your type
giving her pooch a
casually brutal jerk on its leash.

A summer storm’s come up
and there’s just time
for Lukacs’ phrase
to leap off the fluttering page:

“Life’s richly blossoming plenitude”.

August 1: at Myoshinji Temple

A vast, dun-colored heap
light tumbling down its flanks.
Cicadas, sing all you want,
make the sticky pine trees quiver
with your frantic drone:
the Great Hall keeps its own counsel.

Painting by R. Waiksnis