HILL DAZE

The snow sinks from the sky
Its fine slivers glistening one at a time
A glare hangs in the air between the hill
And the light pole's indigo shadow

the hem of that farmer's raincoat
having been shredded by the wind
is in keeping with Sanoki's woodblocks
of the second decade of the 19th century

The meadows edge onto Siberian heavens
Seams of turquoise gleam, polished, flawless

(the sun unceasingly
burns its white fire
in a remote sky)

The snow on blades of bamboo grass
Falls in flames and falls in flames


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