Quiet

A day to catch up on each other’s stories, to walk in the woods, to rest.

A neighbor in the building where I live recently self-published a book of her poems, anonymously. She calls herself only Pine Wind. She ordered six copies, gave me one. This must be how the members of Dante's inner circle felt. 

From your hand to mine
A spray of sakura
Pointing the way--
You the branch, I the blossoms
Flowering in your arms.
--Pine Wind.