← v8n2, Fall 2009
Poetry · Volume 8, Number 2

Condolence for the Blind Mori

drum is here, the one-eyed cat is here, your

grandmother’s favorite stone is here.

And Ikkyu waits, but not

as you remember him. The embrace

is the same, so complete there is no need

to speak. But for you he did, as you both

separated, whispering in your ear

Whose eyes do not open?