On A Narrow Road to Acadia National Park
In Acadia, in April,
before the storm,
the roads are closed.
But we navigate a passage
underneath a bridge
emerging on a bay.
Absolutely no one there--
the seagulls cry
above the empty harbor.
The coastline is a granite rung
the color of a peach
and pine trees waiting skywards.
Far past the mouth, some islands
lift the near horizon
like mirages in a desert.
The sea is mercury
beneath an overcast,
close by and mottled sky.
All seems motionless
despite the rippled waves
and wings of birds above them.
I know that Church once painted
mountains in the background
from this point in 1850.
And still, 2007
doesn’t look dissimilar
seeing in this stark and other way.
~Son Rivers 2007 (rev-1)
A PASSING MOMENT
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This is my rather loose translation of a hokku by Ōemaru, who lived into
the first five years of the 19th century. For a moment,Autumn seen on the
hillsAt ...
2 days ago
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