Poetry

Kika Sai

Furusato

The house of the heart

Where memories collect dust on the shelf

Bottled and stored for safe keeping

Childhood painted across every wall

Coloured gold and silver

A tableau for every joy and triumph

Weighed against sorrow and disappointment

Each room has been built to the exact measurement of your ribcage

No bone or strand left out of place

Preserved as a monument to all the lives that you touched

A system pumping the lifeblood of laughter

As they remember every moment spent in your company

Beautiful, bittersweet

Hana wa sakuragi, hito wa bushi

You are home

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