YUI
At Yui, travellers had a choice: risk drowning at sea or death by bandits
     on Satta Pass. In the garden this morning kill-fish lap
     their bowl indifferent to crows balancing on the rim.
     Ack-ack-ack-ack, crows laugh as they watch fish loop-the-loop.

Kikuyo shivers thinking of travellers peaky as an August moon,
     too close to the edge, torn between safety and danger.
     Trees fall away from the blue-green waters of Suruga,
     four junks head for the point of vanishing.

A grey thought clings to the ledge. He has forgotten. I am not jealous,
     though I know he’s not alone, Kikuyo thinks. She paints
     her bottom lip and chooses the high road. Leaves
     at once as clouds unravel the day.

Nancy Gaffield
Tokaido Road
(CB Editions 2011)