You could well be the counterpart of Yasujiro Ozu’s
Elderly couple in Tokyo Story, gazing at the sea
On a breakwater.
The soft twilight impinging on your memories
Of sons and daughters leaves vacant
The sound of years in each corner of your life.
They have long grown to the grind
Of living, now wrapped up in their own struggles.
Now you feel the desolation gnawing
At the root of things,
The severity of finding yourselves
In the harshest terms of solitude after all.
Your last moment together has become
A tabloid spectacle, razor-edged sorrow
Cutting your face as you hold
Your husband lifeless in your arms
On the curb of the boulevard,
Both of you delicate and grey,
Your pedestrian clothes carried loose
By the thin bones bagged by furrowed skin.
At his side is the guitar
Miraculously left whole from the swipe
Of a thoughtless car. He must have had played earlier
To reaffirm his undying love or to serenade
The world with the beauty of your faith-
Bittersweet song, bittersweet tears
For a black & white exit.
(Calligraphy by Machao Niizuma: Joy, Anger, Sadness, Happiness)