(after Rihaku and Pound)

 

Five days

beyond my nineteenth birthday,

you brought me to this island.

In tumbling stars

we lay,

skins upon the sand.

I gave what I could –

     you flew from me

     like a frightened bird.

 

This fall

the crickets stilled their song;

in the brown yard, the Boules de Neige

were weary and gray.

The grass grew long

around the cottage walls;

I had not the feeling

to cut it,

nor my own hair.

 

Today

the snow came;

it lies thick upon

my sad heart.

 

     Hear me, my love:

     Our child stirs

     within my womb.

 

     Each day until the buds burst,

     I will wait by the ferry gate.

            If by then you do not come,

             do not come at all.

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