–after Basho

I wake to a full moon,
run down the street to catch it.
It winks at me
from behind homes.
A wanderer steps aside for me
but the moon drops out of sight.

In its place, I try to catch a falling
leaf, its abandonment
a short-lived twirl.
Though leaves conceal the way
my friend the wind
sweeps me home.

At the dinner table, I rise
while others are still eating,
leave family in mid-sentence,
close the glass-paned door
behind me, find my way
into the basement.