Reflection on Aoi-no-Ue
Lady Rokujō;
her palm-frond carriage
brought quietly up
to see the procession
in hopes of
brief forgetfulness.
Her graceful sleeves
trailed beneath
the curtains,
colors like that
of a little girl.
In the crush
of the crowd
the stools for her
carriage shafts
had been broken,
and now there was
no room
for her to pass.
Why had she come?
Without stopping
his horse,
or looking her way,
the Shining Prince
passed her by –
every silent tree
and blade of grass
bowing to him
in seeming admiration
of his indifference.
Lady Rokujō;
her tattered sleeves
drawn up inside
the carriage,
colors once that
of a little girl.
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