Published July 3, 2013 by rlmcdermott

The steps to the shrine were steep.

Young girls
dressed in
white were
selling fortunes.

A priest passed between two trees.

Someone was
calling my name,
sweet voices
in dark places;
I listened to
the small gods
and their promises.

The gray sky,
the bells ringing
through the hills,
the stone lanterns;
there was a price
to be paid that
spring day in Nara–
I didn’t know it
would be my heart.Nara

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