The North Window Bamboo and Rock
A magisterial rock windswept and pure
and a few bamboo so lavish and green:
facing me, they seem full of sincerity.
I gaze into them and can't get enough,
and there's more at the north window
and along the path beside West Pond:
wind sowing bamboo clarities aplenty,
rain gracing the subtle greens of moss.
My wife's still here, frail and old as me,
but no one else: the children are gone.
Leave the window open. If you close it,
who'll keep us company for the night?
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