Morning in Snow Season

by Daigaku Murata

It snowed last night

From the white carpet

A cold tear melting into the soil

To become dark clouds again

In the process of ongoing lament.

Nobody makes an effort

To study overnight

Or an all-night vigil

Over rooms and children

From a company of cold drafts

Roaming around impatiently.

Questioning requires us patience,

Being quiet as a pious habit,

Never needs cognizance;

Only in standing before its shadow

We sense its tail wagging.

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