One Day in May

Walking up and down the narrow
Garden of May, trying to grasp the elusive
Image of a poem, I feel a familiar sensation
Of my hair being licked softly;

Looking up, I glimpse in the
Bouquet of a drooping persimmon bough
The head of the poodle I loved so much,
Shedding golden rings of tears from

Its glittering eyes set inside its big
Broad ears; nodding to and fro busily,
Wishing only to be petted over and over-
that love-hungry creature!