The world is cold and grey

A light snow falls, blanketing everything in white

Silently, the flurries dance upon the air

Turning up my collar, I lean back on the bench and think of the book nestled comfortably in my breast pocket,

Closest to my heart

And my thoughts drift to the mute, unspoken words of Julio Cortázar

O Argentine Muse!

How I wish you were here with me,

Sharing a cigarette and taking in the scenery around us

This scene

Like a Japanese woodblock print

As a haiku ode to Hiroshige

Pops into my head

Washington Square Park in winter,

With its skeletal trees,

Snow-covered marble arch,

And stoic, Zen-like visitors all bundled warm and cozy in their winter best

No greater heaven exists on this earth

Even as the icy chill blows in off the Hudson

© Chester Sakamoto