The Village at Night

At ten, the loop rests.

Last train drops passengers at the nearest station.

Market gate quiet; the argument is only set down until morning.

In Kyōbugi the lanterns stay on for no one in particular. Petals come down without an audience and land anyway.

Tower flame and a high blue window; pages turn after ten.

The smile on the dome stays lit. At this hour it is hard to say for whom.

Dormitory lights go out one by one, in no predictable order.

Nothing happens on the stone streets.

That is not an absence. It is the town, holding still.

The road remembers. Come back at nine.