They Who Can, Love
With what abandonment you court, wanton sparrows! Wings a-quiver, chirping incessantly, you cavort on the low stonewall within reach of your nemesis, who feigns sleep. Can't you see how his ears, erect and alert, flicker and twitch to your every move?
I can't chaperone your courtship all day long. I've documents to edit, calls to take, washing to bring in and the family meal to prepare.
When love calls, answer by all means. But must you do it with such carelessness?
spring offering . . .
a monk's shadow looms
over the goddess