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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4180 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention The Calligrapher M. Kathryn Black I recline on pillows in my small wooden boat; a sharp tang of pipe smoke wafts over dark water. My wife stands in the bow, watches fireworks falling like flowers over the bridge. I will remember this night. My brush will dredge thick ink; in energetic strokes the words will be painted on silk threaded paper: A WOMAN'S ROBE BILLOWS AS A WATERFALL My apprentice shall set my tribute into a scroll which will hang as a lone ornament. There will be preparations for tea, the boiling of water, silence, measurement of green powder, the whisk and raku cups. One will hand the offering to another, take small sips, find peace in ritual. MOON SHUDDERS BEHIND PINE BOUGHS Under blankets my wife whispers, Orishiko. I wind my arms around her delicate form and put my cheek to hers. You're my beloved, I say. you have given me my voice. |
