Hanasakajijii (Four: A Great Wind, More Ash)

Yesterday, the land went dry.

I sprinkled ash of my neighbor's urn

Over the yard.

Sprinkled in the hope

That should I cut out

A pie wedge,

I would find gold.

Buried in the ground

Between the grass and growth.

Instead, the earth skin cracking

And a great wind, more ash,

Slivers of the ground burning in the eyes

Of ones, who, standing there...

Long ago, when it all began

The dog would dig the ground

And whisper, "Master, come to the garden.

By your hand to the spade, cut away behind your house.

Cut away for coins. Cut away to the buried..."