after Hokusai and Hiroshige
I dreamt half my life was spent in wonder, and never suspected. So immersed in the moment I forgot I was ever there. Red-tailed hawk turning resistance into ecstasy. The patrolmen joking with the drunk whose butt seemed glued to the sidewalk. A coral quince blossom in winter, pink as a lover's present. And tilting my bamboo umbrella against the warm slant of rain, was I not a happy peasant crossing the great bay on a bridge that began who knows when, and will end who knows when.
From Views from Along the Middle Way by Thomas Centolella is used by permission of Copper Canyon Press. Copyright © 2002 by Thomas Centolella. All rights reserved.