I Have Never Been Anything Like Pink

I have never been anything like pink
a child becomes a girl     and finally     when she heads for the dawn
there is one long road to M.     from Y.     a bus goes by every thirty
when she missed the bus     the girl
walked with a large brown bag     in the dark daytime
on a road lined with black woods on both sides
when a raven     flew over
she called out, "Poe"
Poe's "The Raven"     and Prison without Bars     were her only partners
to talk to
even now     she can dream     of that long road     sometimes the
characteristic whizzing
wind of Musashino     carried off the girl's black bobbed hair
childlike human beings      go walking on it like black specks

even though I call out     come here     I will put you on my palm
the girl     can't hear me
because she is walking in
the gray cloudy weather     where time's rain     of tens of years ago is
about to fall
the road     where the child became a girl     and finally
heads for dawn     is broken

Regarding the Future The Donkey

Regarding the future   the donkey contemplates   after this century 
   What sort of century will come   then
How will the donkey's ears   be useful
Will poetry be peacefully prosperous   or
Hang on to the ears of hell   panting   burning fiercely   the fire of energy that 
   Rides the rising air current
Gods   ease the discontent of those who call themselves absolute
Buddha   closed his eyes a little while ago
I am not sleeping   I am contemplating
The sculptor   says every time he gets drowsy
And he wakes up without fail   by looking at a beautiful woman
And screams that   Flowers bloom in this world but
The donkey   opens a hole in the ant hill   looking
Everyone plugs their ears   reading their own sutras inside many layered enclosures
Gradually becoming ants   gradually becoming soil
Begins to hear a god like voice   from somewhere
Saying   what is called the future is
Not yet   loaded onto your back