Father sits zashiki* across from mother
at a low table in a rice paper walled room—
the moon, Tsuki-Yomi, to her sun.
His eyes crinkle—rays on ice in moonlight.
Mother, Amaterasu, named for the Goddess
returns his smile. Her newlywed
countenance warms him.
snow slides from
the ryokan’s roof:
His chopsticks dance
to and fro, from the sushi to her
lips in an ageless ritual,
pink roe from an ivory stalk,
the inside door
to the bathhouse stands open:
the hall is too long
*zashiki – in the tatami room
Deborah Guzzi writes full time and travels for inspiration. Her third book The Hurricane is available through Prolific Press and at firstname.lastname@example.org. Her poetry appears in: Allegro Poetry Magazine and Artificium in the UK, Existere – Journal of Arts and Literature and Scarlet Leaf Review, Canada – Tincture, Australia – Cha: Asian Literary Review, China – Eunoia in Singapore – Vine Leaves Literary Journal – Greece, mgv2>publishing – France, and Ribbons: Tanka Society of America, pioneertown, Sounding Review, Bacopa Literary Review, Shooter, The Aurorean, Crack the Spine Literary Magazine, Liquid Imagination, Concis, The Tishman Review, Page & Spine & others in the USA. the-hurricanedg.com.