
After long absence I return
to this terrace
Softness drips from last night’s rain
Birdsong rises from cedars and red maples
Wind sings praise to the floating world
I sit again among fat brown spiders
Still afraid
but it is they who knew me first

After long absence I return
to this terrace
Softness drips from last night’s rain
Birdsong rises from cedars and red maples
Wind sings praise to the floating world
I sit again among fat brown spiders
Still afraid
but it is they who knew me first

The crowd is
the crowd
You’re either in
or you’re out
The crowd is
always the crowd.