Like being a child and a sudden insult
is jerked over your head like a sack
through its mesh you catch a glimpse of the sun
and hear the cherry trees humming.
No help in that—the great insult
covers your head your torso your knees
you can move sporadically
but can’t look forward to spring.
Glimmering woolly hat, pull it down over your face
stare through the stitches.
On the straits the water rings are crowding soundlessly.
Green leaves are darkening the earth.