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:
udon steams
His chopsticks dance
to and fro, from the sushi to her
lips in an ageless ritual,
pink roe from an ivory stalk,
she licks.
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 aleezadelta@aol.com. 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.