THE SUN SHEDS SLIVERS OF TOPAZ

The sun sheds slivers of topaz
The clouds, rancid, are congealed in the cold
Flocks of larks sink and float straight through the sky
(why are you standing there
you shouldn't be, you know
an Ainu's peering across the surface of the marsh)
The south wind jolts the frozen branches
Of the one old velvet-green cedar tree
Sending a moth, faint white in the day
Adrift shakily, forlorn
Across the air's indefinite shoreline
(with the water being mercury
and the wind carrying such balmy aromas
this form of thinking falls well
within the category of angry gods)
The Ainu moves to the other side in his own time
The moth passes over the swamp lily buds along shore


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