Future

going to bed late
dreading the dawn for who knows
what the day may bring
–
blowing snow-
the coarse growl
of a passing train

flooded rice paddies
on the roadside sheaves of straw
drying in the sun
–
high spring sun
nimble fingers
sowing wheat

encouraging words
left in the chinks in my walls
for my future self
–
in a sky blue egg
cracks begin
to appear