Asakiyume mita

Yesterday The Writer's Almanac featured the poem "Summer Night," by Connie Wanek. I was transfixed by the first image:

The street lamp looks down;
it has dropped something
and spends the whole night
searching around its feet.

The light it has dropped illuminates its feet, but the street lamp sees only grass and asphalt and senses that this is not what it's searching for.


Street Lamp 2 by ANDYWPHOTO on Flickr.

Also yesterday, I saw a loneflower:



The outbuilding's roof has collapsed and one wall has crumbled, but the sentinel doesn't abandon the post. In time the loneflower will hang its head . . . it will be searching around its feet for something.

And yamamanama saw a performance of A Midsummer's Night Dream in which a player played the moon by wielding a cane. The moon with a cane. The moon, puttin' on the Ritz . . .



PS, and unrelated, but I love it, so: The Boy Who Cried Wolves