5/398

♫ Wabe-Sabi ♫
5/398
In our corridor
to the parlor, logs in hand.
Warmth? Only with you.
In our corridor—
amaryllis blooms afloat—
how I wish you back.
In our corridor,
I take down our photograph:
Missing you too long.
In our corridor?
From afar, soft moonlight calls.
Why still do I wait?
In our corridor:
off guard, is it you I hold?
Could it…? But a ghost!

