Tuesday, February 16, 2010

At Last

At Last

I have children
waiting in you.
This time, when the cherry blossoms
fall, we meditate like a name
remembering its sound.

We wake up for a day
without a list,
walking the streets for a piece
of our face that can't be
seen in mirrors.

One moment, you are born
with memories
lighter than wind,
and a future
as frail as blossoms.

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