Walking home at night
hear the clack-clack as the train rolls past, and
when I look up, I see the stars.
In the distance low rows of negi stretch into the horizon.
When I close my close I feel the wind
and hear the crickets singing.
If I’m not careful I will step on frogs
(the kind the children catch and treasure)
The karaoke bar thrums.
They’ve paved the roads; no more holes.
Maybe this isn’t so bad after all…