nothing but the moon tonight—
and cotton-like clouds in burnished shreds...
above a ragged wall of black pine trees
lining the narrow road sporadically lit—
where I and this form of a shadow split.
~Kokoro Sonzai 2010 (trans. Son Rivers)
WHY DID I WAKE? WHEN SHALL I SLEEP AGAIN?
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In the past few days, have noticed a great many people coming to this site
for my discussion of the “Days of Wine and Roses” poem by Ernest Dowson.
In it...
5 weeks ago
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