Early stroll brings
oh-well, oh-well.
Red-eyed Asian koels 
 
must be heard. Brisk
breeze of March will warp 
a shiba's fur and waft 
 
my own hair like summer grass.
The condo pool whips up 
for me a boating lake
 
from my novice-time far
removed. The surface
runs quick with grey
 
wavelets of visible drift
which skew away in ripping
tide. My hair was thicker
 
in junior times. Skin shone 
in June. I could not see past
the local park. Maps
 
were obscure to me. Back 
gardens were continent  
enough, and the shops still 
 
closed on Wednesday
afternoons. Considering
such returning winds
 
I'll be delayed from 
work today, made glad 
to turn a further lap or two.