coming home late
after a stop at The Belfast
to my own bottle of Irish
and thoughts of yesterday
today
hope for tomorrow
I toast the ghosts
hovering in corners
ice cubes bump shoulders
the overhead fan twirls
I take another book
from the shelf
there my friends from China
a tavern apart
and 1300 years
much to discuss
lifting a burden
from deep in the heart

I go out of the darkness
Onto a road of darkness
Lit only by the far off
Moon on the edge of the mountains.

Kuraki yori
Kuraki michi ni zo
Itinu beki
Haruka ni terase
Yama no hi no tsuki

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

it used to be
a glass of whiskey
was all that was needed
to put ghosts to sleep
but whiskey
an old dear friend
just isn’t up to the task
anymore
and I am beyond that crutch
now I face these old ghosts
and we converse
I listen to the old laments
the missed opportunities
the things not said
a hand not held
and commiserate
for one day
I too will be an old ghost
with my own regrets to tell
to whatever poor soul
awake at night
who will listen
and then I too
will grow drowsy
and fall asleep
after unburdening my sins
like these old ghosts
these friends of mine
who slumber around me
at peace for one more day
until night falls again
and their minds get working
reliving those past transgressions
omissions
that they need to recant
once again
to me