By Miriam Sagan
a shady path
among rhododendrons
a mansion
built for pleasure
a pool full
of water lilies
a dark lotus
the color of Krishna—
these things
reveal themselves
in a play
of light and shadow
like golden carp
in a murky pond
or like a moment
startled awake
by a red bird
***
I lay in the bathtub
at your house
thinking
about the long gone girls
of my so called
youth
until someone opened a door
and I became an old woman
tide going out
moon waxing
both pink and white
beach roses
a man skips stones
a girl
turns away on the beach
as if this were a painting
of a girl
on a beach
***
huge sculpture
criss-crossing beams
frame the hill
red metal
like a Shinto shrine
marking Fujiyama
sculptor
in his wheelchair
watches the crane
lift and bolt
his scaffolding
to the sky
