Under the feint stars
resting against a stone slab,
shaded cotton drift through the air
Jupiter dances with Venus…
lying in a warm watery blanket
‘Otousan, mite!’ a boy says smiling
as he climbs a rock,
trickle, trickle, silence…
 I close my eyes.

Onsen – Hot spring
Otousan – father
mite – look

By B. L. Crisp