Christmas

Walking through the grounds of the Imperial Palace at dusk

alone

a light snow

the intersection of my horizontal journey

and

the vertical journey of the falling snow

my boots meet the gravel path

each step recorded with a crunch

tiny stones shifting slightly

on the edge of the sharp evening air

I smell the proud ancient pines

the world

this Japanese world

slides quietly into monochrome

color washed out in the fading light

the low clouds

the snow.

I close my eyes

and

walk a straight line.