An ache,
And I slipped back

The zig-zing of his glassy wings
Vibration on the stony surface

A familiar course interrupted
Smell of sweat and dry platform
I tiptoed around the pillar

Passersby in suits
And the desperate child
She touched the winged scream

The furious cicada
Then a storm into the shaking track
Green, orange, and nothing
My tongue trembled at the roar

A moment of mirage
Unbearable heat in my fingers
And the shrill cry fell onto the floor

One zig-zig against the concrete
He neatly rested by the pillar

Out of moistened silence
Familiar human prosody
Ringing throughout the air
Perhaps it was

Came in a rush of blue and silver
And I hurried to the train door
Cool air pouring from above
Somehow alien
The door closed

The window gave a pale reflection
A glass of expectation
Torn into the creaking departure
Just another passerby

Glossy window frames
A small dot
Sunken to the left

Darker than my eyes
Beneath the still
Monument column

A lingering creak
To soothing strains

And I passed


Misako Takahashi

Misako Takahashi

Misako Takahashi is a graduate student in English Literature at the University of the Sacred Heart, Tokyo. Her research topics include the imagery of nature in children’s literature and natural history. She is especially interested in stories in which wolves appear.