Street Scene, 9th. Lunar Month 1856.

Studying a print by Utagawa Hiroshige
I fall asleep in my rocking chair
And find myself quietly strolling through
The back streets of Edo.

The people that I meet
Nod politely as I pass;
Their faces, deep in shadow,
Their voices muffled whispers.

Almost invisible beneath the yellow umbrellas
That shield their heads from the evening rain
Gently sloping down from purple clouds,
I sense their eyes are shrewdly watching me
With a delicate precision.

To find a sleep walker in their midst,
A stranger unperturbed by the rawness
Of the autumn evening,
Is an event that breaks all the complex rules
By which they live their lives.
They pass me by as they would pass a beggar,
Or an official they do not care to meet.

The opening chorus of Brahms Requiem
Jolts me awake. I have dropped the book
On the kitchen carpet. I observe it is not damaged
And has remained open at the page
That I was carefully studying
Before I suddenly drifted into sleep.

I pick up the book and re-acquaint myself
With the brightly lit shops and wooden houses,
The neat umbrellas tilted in the wind.
And for a moment I am almost back in Edo,
Strolling quietly through the evening crowds,
An outsider trying to make myself at home.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
November 12th. 2018.