Diving for Ayu Memories

Standing on a rock

Overlooking the river below

Upstream an old man is fishing for ayu

I hope my splash does not scare away the fish

I lean forward and jump

Questions about the depth of the river

Disappear as I cut through the water

The cold water awakens my senses

I don’t appreciate the freedom that youth brings

At least not at this moment

On shore the old fisherman has started a fire

Fresh ayu pierced with long sharp sticks found on the shoreline

Salted on both sides

He cooks them over the fire

Each side getting their due

He hands me a savory stick

I take my first bite

The freshness of the beautiful ayu

Is only matched

By today’s memory

A wonderful time of younger days


Originally posted August 5, 2015


Two AM at a Diner

Two AM at a diner

Sitting at the counter

A fan blows left, then right

Its hum blending with a radio

Singing seventies songs in the background

Hair in a bun

Tired lines of age litter her face

She scribbles my order on a notepad

Staring vacantly out the window

Thoughts of anywhere but here on her mind

The clinking sound of a man stirring his coffee

Elsewhere, yesterday’s newspaper rustles, turning a page

The bell rings as another lone customer enters the diner

We are separate

But we are the same

Outside a street lamp’s dull light

Hardly illuminates the street below

The cold cracked pavement leads elsewhere

The wind tugs at my arm

Inviting me to go

I stand

Leaving bills on the counter

My order uneaten, nor received

The sound of the bell rings again

As I leave quietly into the night


Originally posted August 2, 2015