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 minutes 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
From My Floating Mother, City, by Kazuko Shiraishi, translated from the Japanese by Samuel Grolmes and Yumiko Tsumura. Copyright © 1982 by Kazuko Shiraishi. Used by permission of New Directions. All rights reserved.