A Letter to Matsuo Bashō

     by Mark Young

Each morning, in the later

part of the season, two

rainbow lorikeets arrive &

perch in the upper branches

of the mandarin tree, sitting

there, couple-comfy, until

I have finished my garden

duties. Then they move to

the lower branches to eat the

ripest fruit, piercing the skin

& attacking the flesh. Some

skins & segments fall to the

ground. Other leavings remain,

stalks stuck to the wood, hollow

orange shells, miniatures of

those lanterns you like so much.

First published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, 11 April 2022.