I move my chair
to observe Mt. Fuji–
monstrous perfection
topped with the cooling crust
of spring snows.
Languid movement
of a branch,
like a geisha
unfurling her arm
from a gray kimono,
makes petals fall,
a scented, pink snow
covering my upturned face
with careless kisses.
Timid winds caress
my limbs,
a fleeting relief
to tired bones
brittle now with
a sullen defeat of life.
Raked sand of garden
waves barely disturbed
by feet like two gray stones
as grains flow
round ankles.
I realize once again
I am no obstacle to
the sands of time.
My heart is quieted
by the passage of nothing
for in this nothing
is revealed the fullness of life.
Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2016-2019
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