Sharon Kemmerer

Kyoto Moon

Walking down the sharp steps
On a cool Kyoto autumn evening
I come to the first landing I
Chance to look up and I see

Hanging low in the sky, like, a giant
Cat’s eye, round and reflecting the light

The moon,

great and orange, balances on
The tips of pointed firs, darkened with night

As if settling there to watch, me and all that
Pass by on their way to the battering clattering Train where people are there but not there

 

It’s the same moon, I thought as
I stood there. The same one that

So long ago stood in the sky, balancing on
Treetops, round and warm and full

With dirt roads and framed wooden
Houses crammed closed together, light
Flickering through the thin white paper
That covers the doors.

Suddenly a strange warm wind
Brushed against the back of my neck
as if fingers
In a gentle caress,
the night saying, welcome home

I smile stare at the moon

who stares back