after Kotaro Takamura
Let’s not leave the moist clay, earthenware to freeze,
Tonight the kitchen larder will be empty – no matter.
Let’s warm the fire.
In the bedroom, the blankets may thin out
And you may clutch a pillow,
Shivering, in early light – no matter.
Let’s not leave the moist clay, earthenware to freeze.
I will be your sentinel, sleepless in midwinter,
Letting loose the mercury’s
Thin column, a brigade against the gale.
Though we may find the world has left
The two of us alone – no matter. New Year’s day.
My love, let’s warm the fire.