Rush Hour Traffic
In a forest that glistens glass.
Trails throughout, white and smooth.
Ground cover flourishes, luxurious and
black.
Activity and life abound here.
Animals roar and chase,
sleep and eat,
live and die,
their journey unknown to me.
A beautiful stainless steel tree,
bearing ever changing fruit.
Three seasons,
they pass with seconds.
The tree is more.
Rabbits, ants and wolves together,
tamed by the power of the tree,
following the law of seasons,
plotting movement by the fruit's change.
A trivial denial of the tree's authority,
a confrontation, a shatter,
then silence for a moment,
submission.
All as before,
everything knowing its status.
So many come and witness,
so many leave and forget.
Copyright © 1999 T. Masami Tadehara
