Poetry / November 2012 (Issue 19)

Poem of the Pillow

by Robert E. Wood

Lovers in the Private Second-Floor Room of a Tea House
Utamaro 1788
This time the urgency of lovers is made subtle.
Tea has been set aside untouched.

Her skin, sheer white against the red silk
of her hiyoku, still anticipates

the tempest. Her hair is not undone;
the hand that grips his chin has not lost all its grace.
Green branches peer over the railing of the balcony,
the topmost leaves just opening.
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