the wooden porch overlooks the garden
of delicate trees, tired stones.
when you search the sky, you catch a glimpse
of the waning tohoku sun.

it is with our love

inside the house,
the air hangs thick with memories.
decades are etched deep into floorboards
faded from exposure to the tohoku sun.

that we spread open our wings

the two daughters are older now,
with shoulders sore from grief,
but there are still sunflowers in their smiles,
and their eyes shine as bright as the tohoku sun.

and entwine our souls.

chest heavy and room spinning,
this place, once so fondly remembered, is abandoned.
you are left alone once again
beneath the apathetic rays of the tohoku sun.

but when we depart, how such

the garden, however, is an old friend.
the stream’s gentle trickle calms your mind,
and the sharp shadows dance with grains of sand
as ancient as the tohoku sun.

great sorrow is left behind!

as the gentle chirping of crickets
mingles with the quiet laughter inside,
you find stillness in a place that knows no time
and melt into the warmth of the tohoku sun.