Kyoto Old-Town Poem by Stephen Brian Brady
Kyoto Old-Town
lunch in the Old-Town
flown in six thousand miles
to see through a half-open door
him sullen
peeling potatoes
crouched on the red-tiled floor
he sees the bulge of my wings
beneath my coat
and sighs
Kyoto Spring is chilling
as the egg-yolk breaks and fries
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: wings
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8/28/2026 11:36:09 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
