Utterance of a Folding Fan
the missing bones are carved
by wind : the wind is a rickety
chime, chattering : moths captured
in a lamp : the sleeplessness
congeals a mirror : the mirror
calls : a silvery voice is broken :
water drips from the crack :
bones are filled with dark wax
& cannot make a sound : the orchid
is a grievous girl, tapping a nightly
mountain temple : a fan is opened
by time : the orchid drawn out
of the sheath forges into a sword
cutting waterlines : the fan
is closed : plums fall, crickets weave
shattered scales : mayflies
live for descendants : the white
gown on the boat plays a flute :
a river filling with maple leaves
listens to the evening bell
Op.64 in C♯
to be awake is to find one
-self, raw as a bowl of lilies
waking up in the mirror
