Summer was short

We went to retrace our steps

At the edge of a sweet field

A black river took summer away

We dropped our walking

Prayed for the trees still budding

 

–Niilo Rauhala, translated from the Finnish by SK

 

 

Immanence and impermanence–my brothers. I think hard about you. Two crickets outside my window. Water falls on my wrist bone; I’ve a life inside a life. 

 

Sometimes I talk too much. At other times I say nothing, drink red tea from a glass, move books from one table to another.