To the Teahouse

by Sara Backer

Stone lantern,
stone basin,
stepping stones.
The path garden
is completely stoned.

Maple leaves drop
hints. Pines are pruned,
wired, weighted. The moss
is swept.

I, too, am part of this design,
unplanned
and unpredictable.

Published in Sleet


222nd Weekly Poetry Contest
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Comments

LucyM's picture
I like how this begins with this at-arms-length natural image, then in the third stanza it shifts into third person. Like, the narrator just swoops in there. It reminds me a little of an Issa haiku: two images, then a twist. You're wondering, "what's the point?" and then suddenly you're like, "oh! oh." Pretty cool.

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