THE NIGHT OF THE STAIN
–
Izumi hid in the willow greenery
cascading to the ground.
Hair of blackbird gloss
Trailing in the grass
Black and green tangled
In the layers of her hems.
–
Her maid searched for her,
Full of duty to her mistress.
These peaceful moments now rare.
–
“My Lady! I found the most beautiful
Robe in the bottom of a chest.
It will be perfect for your wedding.”
–
Yes, her wedding.
(Better she shave her head and become a nun)
Izumi parted the willow,
Looked without interest,
Her maid holding
A pale jade silk kimono
Embossed tarnished silver embroidery,
Seed pearls gleaming from
Gossamer folds.
–
Izumi’s breath caught in her throat.
Hands trembling
She opened the kimono.
There it was, faded with time-
A blood stain.
–
He was dead now, her greatest love.
Closing her eyes
She remembered his face,
His hair black as a raven,
His sandalwood perfume, still faintly trapped
In the jade bo silk.
–
Through tears leaking
From shadowed lids,
She remembered that night-
The night of the stain,
When locked in his powerful arms
She screamed out—
Scattering the servants listening outside the shoji.
She had bled from
The strength of their passion.
–
Now she was to marry an old man,
Arranged through the court.
Scandal and poverty, Ah!
The two banes of life.
–
She would marry in the stained kimono.
It wouldn’t matter anymore.
–
Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2011-2015