AKIKO
What, humming Akiko?
Hum on warm heart
Warming the backs of my hands
In our laminex world of frozen departures;
Humming for the quiet sun of a Buddhist village,
Unbelonging to this brittle airport,
Brittle me breaking and soft
You are humming.
We have boxes of gift shop koalas
For Japanese part-time fathers who fly, Akiko.
Bowing we say our sayings, but what do you say
To their eyes Akiko, whose eyes are at rest
On the moist pebbles of a lakeside village,
Flying and dreaming and dreaming
And humming and dreaming, Akiko.
Thor, 1972