Senbazuru

千羽鶴 
Fold one thousand cranes
Receive your wish from the gods
If they are able

The ramp is gone.
Thin morning sun warms the
Late winter lawn.
Early bulbs break through.

A stack of folding chairs
Leans by the hallway.
First to arrive.
Last to leave.

One thousand cranes
Flock from the ceiling
Of the living room corner

The old dog
Noses us
Each in turn.

Finds nothing. 
Just bagels, 
Black coffee
Bloody Marys.

A couple of friends
A thin thread of plans
A relentless and unimaginable future
Unfolding.