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Wednesday, May 22, 2019

In Place: An Album 15

15

Rain comes, fogs settle in;
her ceiling does drip a little;
path grows muddy; to keep her footing
she throws flat stones in low spots



In summer she gathers stones — basalt, mostly — from the dry  creek bed and stores them for winter projects.


I always wanted to go to East Cliff, 
more years than I can remember, until today 
I just grabbed a vine and started up. 
Halfway up wind and a heavy mist closed in,
and the narrow path tugged at my shirt: 
it was hard to get on. The slickery
mud under the moss on the rocks
gave way, and I couldn’t keep going.
So here I stay, under this cinnamon tree, 

white clouds for my pillow,
I’ll just take a nap.

Han Shan (Cold Mountain, tr. Seaton )

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