Fugitive Thoughts

My thoughts are sparrows passing
Through one great wave that breaks
In bubbles of gold on a black motionless rock.

Disappointment

Rain rattles on the pavement,
Puddles stand in the bluish stones;
Afar in the Yoshiwara
Is she who holds my heart.

Alas, the torn lantern of my hope
Trembles and sputters in the rain.