Winter winds
invade from the north
scouring and blasting
the inner walls, rocking
the heavy dark posts
of the temple gate
Last summer
under cicada sounds
and falling blossoms
we sat apart on green
tatami mats, sipping
fresh new tea from Uji
You have gone
to Tokiwa in the north
to the home of your uncle
and I have gone
in duty, as I told you
far south to Kagoshima
Many many leagues
separate our dwellings
and there are no more
blossoms, nor tea from Uji
but the moon understands
and smiles upon us both
