solitaire
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in the numbers
whatever you had your hand in
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which was everything
we were told never to put
our faith in you
to bow to you humbly after all
because in the end there was nothing
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of vanished animals
observances rituals
not binding upon you
who make no promises
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not to neglect you
and risk your disfavor
oh you who are never the same
who are secret as the day when it comes
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as often as we can
without understanding
Labels: Chikanobu Toyohara, frank w benson, j bolegard, jacques villon, poetry, Shuntei Miyagawa, vallotton, ws merwin