Before the first stop
Cream light reaches the armrest. I keep my passport wallet on my lap, even though I don't get off yet.
A Signpost Wet with Spray
However deep the night, the sound of water doesn't stop. The letters under my fingertips had already blurred past reading. Even so, the way back was known only to me, standing stopped before it.
Evening, Taking Off My Shoes
All day, with every step, the water moved inside my shoes. Something like a small puddle, shifting place with each stride, clung to the soles of my feet. When evening came and I took off my shoes, the damp insoles stuck to my feet and came away with them, and only as I pulled on dry socks did it occur to me that the day was over.
A Drop on a Lotus Leaf
A drop of water pooled on a lotus leaf rolls along. It pauses a moment at the leaf's edge, and when the wind comes, rolls off toward the other side again. I'm sitting on a bench by the pond, watching. The rain has just stopped, so only the plunk of a falling drop comes clear. Each time a drop falls and the ripples spread, the road I came along a little while ago trembles in its reflection on the water.
Sandbar Morning
It was a morning in late autumn when the water parted in two before the sandbar. Stepping off the bus, I looked toward where the heron stood, and then saw only the water going on flowing.
Sky Pooled in the Rock
The sky has come to sit in the puddle. The rock, busy reflecting that sky, crouched quietly, facing down. A person sits beside it without touching the water, staying still a long while, wondering when it was that things could become this calm.