Complacent Ronin
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Through a man’s eyes is a story
with pages stained at corners
pen or sword
both rest in sheaths honed finer
than any blade that might rest inside it
a tiger’s teeth caresses grass
so do the leather sandals of a hunter
to strike while calm gulps of sake
are taken full-on, while winter moans its
challenge
proper switching of balance from one foot to the other
is lost
all who stood before have become chaff
what need is there to stain the horizon with
blood?
crook of the arm becomes a lacquered sheath
for the head, now in full rest
for the might that long ago drove tigers
out of reach
Photograph by Tambako The Jaguar
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