Half-Moon

He always knew his answer.
Following the clues,
the music creeps up the slope.

The horizon is hemmed
in colors contrasting yet within the shades
of shifting hydrangea blooms.

Bats slash the dome of the dusk
a few times and fly somewhere
none of the concertgoers know.

Tattoos on the spine of white flesh
between black straps spread like a vine
and I remember.

His young children
climbed all over him
and rested there like fruits.

The half-moon is high above the stage.
We are here.
He is not.

Miho Kinnas is a Japanese writer and translator. Her book of poems, Today Fish Only, was published by Math Paper Press of Singapore in 2015. Miho’s poems also appeared in Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, 24Pearl: The Magazine, and Really System. The Classical Gardens of Shanghai (HKU Press, 2016) and Quixotica: Poems East of La Mancha (Chameleon Press, 2016) included her poems. Her translations of poems appeared in Poetry Kanto (2015) and Star*Line (2015). She holds an MFA in creative writing in poetry from City University of Hong Kong and is a member of Island Writers’ Network of Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, USA, where she currently resides.

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