The Bones of the Moon-Viewers
The sea, empty and flat —
no bird or wave.
A surface, metal, rigid.
No wind to lift a cry,
no sigh of sand
or click of pebble anywhere.
The tides are dead
because there is no moon.
And for the bones
of the moonviewers
in the raked sand of Kyoto,
faint pulsing stars
whiten nothing.
Page(s) 105
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