….the pear blossoms brought these beloved words to my mind.
Comice by Joseph Stroud
I think of Issa often these days, his poems about the loneliness
of fleas, watermelons becoming frogs to escape from thieves.
Moon in solstice, snowfall under the earth, I dream of a pure life.
Issa said of his child, She smooths the wrinkles from my heart.
Yes, it’s a dewdrop world. Inside the pear there’s a paradise
we will never know, our only hint the sweetness of its taste.
From “The Poet’s Child,” edited by Michael Wiegers
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