Kijun Times

Apple - Jane Hirshfield

I woke and remembered

nothing of what was dreaming

The day grew light, then dark again

In all its rich hours, what happene?

A few weeds pulled, a few cold flowers

carried inside for the vase

A little reading. A little tidying and sweeping

I had vowed to do nothing I did not wish

to do that day, and kept my promise

Once, a certain hope came close

and then departed passed by me in its familiar

shawl, scented with iodine woodsmoke

I did not speak to it, nor it to me

Yet still the habit of warmth traveled

between us, like an apple shared by old friends

One takes bite, then the other

They do this until it is gone