Iwashimizu

last night at Iwashimizu
white horse on the mountain

you slipped your hand into mine
invited me to dance
the ancient chants

perched in the rock garden
full moon
when did I realize
you had left me again

at usa

after many years
I buy a small white horse with bells
at Usa

asking the shrine maiden
"does it fly?"

you fold a white paper prayer
exquisite, with wings

will it fly up
in the sacral smoke?

or descend with autumn leaves
to the moss below