On both sides of the canal,
cherry blossoms
blow on forever. They are
endless clouds mirrored,
in a pond.
Crunch of stones, not quite
gravel.
Dapper and delicate branches
bend softly, avoiding the wrath
of the city.
This is a pleasant place.
Moon, half-circled, waits to
appear in a haiku:
In Koganei Park
Tokyo celebrates the moon
Water murmurs low
Without horns and lights,
it could be a medieval
Japan in the flutter
of time.
