Sunday, 5 November 2023

#1405 - Henro senryu

 




1405

4.309

6.xi.23

Henro senryu 

 

I have lost

the tick tock of the town

I have gained some sunshine

 

 

 

the chanting of monks or sometimes just one 

and sometimes so good 

it must be a recording 

 

 

 

little pine yearning from the forest path 

it’s not my foot 

to kick you away 

 

 

 

‘beware of wasps’ the sign says now 

mukashi mukashi made your own way

today the same birds sing 

 

 

 

dragon’s drool

to cleanse hands, face

arriving at temples along the way

 

 

 

a sky always starts

from the top of your head

the way of the mountain is up

 

 

 

you think you have been before

because you always were

on the way

 

 

 

an old man along the track

guessed that I was 70

he was 79

 

 

 

what use coins for stone?

for the dead?

who would think to ask?

 

 

 

a day beginning is hope

so sun says

here comes a little cloud

 

 

 

her face stricken panic

too much empathy

‘there is no shop on the mountain’

 



an hour’s walking

and the sign shows next temple still the same distance

the pilgrim learns patience this way

 

 

 

I can hear the top of the tree

but I can’t see

the crow presiding

 

 

 

henro korogashi 

a lovely day to fall down on the mountain 

autumn and all in flower 

 

 

 

thin walls of winter

abandoned now

we live another age

 

 

 

the house is falling down

everything of the moment

remains along the way

 

 

 

car approaching on a mountain road

the stream below

much louder

 

 

 

great dinosaur claws of the rubble world

whose blossoms declaring

this sun?

 

 

 

everyone’s always saying they’re rude 

they’re not 

but the seat is too warm 

 

 

 

a wasp buzz of monks

far past now

the temple is still far away

 

 

 

sometimes a ladder

rots as you climb

that’s how the days fall away

 

 

 

patient loudspeaker voice through the village

no knowing why this gentle insistence

I must be at fault

 

 

 

as if waiting for the world to end

gulp it down

while it’s bright

 

 

 

a voice in the headlong rush

says

we will soon be arriving

 

 

 

 

DIY sacred, temple lavish

dogs and cats bow

cars at a signal too

 

 

 

two ducks take off

for some time with the sky

later I hear them land

 

 

boys own natsukashii

ride a big bike into the desert 

run out petrol and die 




here, as elsewhere

vanished in the little sky

each holds in the hand

 

 

 

only gaijin here syndrome 

or I mistake a vow of silence 

turns out he was Austrian 




ants have made their way

to the top of the mountain 

humbly I follow their lead





























































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