Silent House (continued)
Thinking it dead,
I brushed a fly off the screen,
But falling on the mat
It began to squirm.
I felt something amiss,
And now I know …
The locomotive factory
Is closed today.
Plum Blossoms
The guests having departed,
The twilight is lonely.
Beneath the plum tree
I stand alone, a sharp wind
On my burning face.
The frozen earth crackles
Under my tread;
Bending beneath the vaulted boughs,
I cast the white plum blossoms
Against the dark sky.
64 
