This is my bench
under the wisteria trellis
on the other side of the world,
where, looking outward to the east,
I behold impermanence
and, looking inward to the west,
imperfection.
This is my bench
under the wisteria trellis
on the other side of the world,
where, looking outward to the east,
I behold impermanence
and, looking inward to the west,
imperfection.
