sakeji

o sakeji, i miss you
your marching path, your river,
the plates, worn smooth by thousands of forks
by generations of forks
by dishes of sunday ice-cream.

i miss your hundred verses, your ricecakes,
your legendary maps and basketball court,
your pool, your river, your dust.

i miss your birthday chairs and mealtime prayers
your tea - your half-term - your dusk
your singing
and laughing
and homesick longing.

o sakeji.  i miss you.