Ryokan casts off his sandals and warms his feet beside the fire. My dogs make him at home with their kisses, lick the floor wherever he’s been. Later, I decide, we'll drink sake, read Akiko Yosano, and long for love. Once, I stood at the foot of a bed I shared with my young husband. My brown hair was long and thick; it covered my shoulders and my breasts, swollen and tender. I offer Ryokan a piece of cake made of sweet batter, bitter rind, and black seeds. All night and day, sifting snow.

in the cottonwood
a nest and strands
of graying hair