Gray rainy day,
Steady drops changed his Umbrella into a drum.
Rain, plops of drops
Around them. No conversation
But man and woman agreed – the hill.
They both walked to the
Cherry trees at the top of
the hill, rain spattered pond below.
The grey heron stood
In the pond blithely ignoring
The falling rain.
Knowing him well, the woman
Balanced herself down the slope
To stand on the rock
That reached out
Into the small pond. The heron
Stood still, waiting for
The bread she held in
Her hand. They’ve done this before.
Bread dropped and floated on
The water bobbing
Before he quickly scooped it up
With his long bill.
The man at the top of
The hill laughed in delight but
Halted at her upright
Hand. “He doesn’t know
You. Stay there. “ She climbed back up
The slope to stand and
Watch the heron as
He finished his treat.
Envious geese muttered
And flapped their wings.
The man is quiet
and waits for the heron to
Fly away. The cherry trees drip
And the rain softly
Falls around them.
“No wonder this seems like home
To me.” He whispered.
“I could be happy
In such a small grove of trees
With a pond nearby.
There was a place like this,
Near our home.”
He held out his hand,
solemnly watching the rain
create a tiny pond in the palm of his hand.
“寒雨 Kanu.” He whispered. (cold winter rain)
She smiled at him.
He walked her back to
Her office, holding the
Umbrella carefully over her.
“I want to come here again”
He whispered.
“Then we shall.”
She bowed deeply to him.
“おかえり Okaeri” (welcome home)
He bowed in return.
“ただいま Tadaima.” (I’m home).
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