The moon is in the sky,
But as if someone were absent
The whole scene is empty...
· Matsuo Basho, The Records of a Travel-worn Satchel

from the belvedere,
a faint contrail
bridges two looming clouds

late afternoon light
parachutes into treetops
and lands in tatters on tangled grass.

a kite has caught on a tree,

like my eyes on the long dark hair
of a girl leaning alone on the balustrade.

two children play hide-and-seek
on the nearly empty plaza;
a small boy hides his eyes
behind his hands,
counts to sixty

opens them again
just as the first raindrops
speckle my notebook.

i look back
but the girl is gone.

colder now,
clouds like woolen blankets;
there will be no stars tonight,
but below, one by one
the city's lights wink on.