Tea sprouts wildly
by the roadside:
jade splayed fingers
flaming the earth
in warped green flicks.
Mild, astringent,
the aroma drifts
into the
triviality
of the present.
Looking over
my backyard fence
toward the road,
quick, damp-green scent
antiquates my
vision: Eisai,
holding seeds from
Kyoto, hikes
across border
hills into a
feudal Japan.
The tea-lined road,
framed by my
imagination,
is an anachronism,
a snapshot that’s
double-exposed.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
Tea sprouts wildly
by the roadside:
jade splayed fingers
flaming the earth
in warped green flicks.
Mild, astringent,
the aroma drifts
into the
triviality
of the present.
Looking over
my backyard fence
toward the road,
quick, damp-green scent
antiquates my
vision: Eisai,
holding seeds from
Kyoto, hikes
across border
hills into a
feudal Japan.
The tea-lined road,
framed by my
imagination,
is an anachronism,
a snapshot that’s
double-exposed.
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