Autumn Grasses in Moonlight, by John Tessitore

Autumn Grasses in Moonlight, by Shabaka Zeshin (Japan) c. mid 19th century, before 1891

Autumn Grasses in Moonlight
 
These darkened leaves and
grasses on a paper screen
 
shadow a graceful gathering 
 
of cicadas with folded wings
clinging fast to silver stems
 
waiting to resume their songs
 
waiting, silent and still until
the moonlight passes over
 
and the night spreads its cover
 
just as I have been waiting 
all along, quiet and withdrawn
 
for my moment of freedom
 
*
 
Sometimes the ink will bleed
the rhythm of the water
 
and everything washes together
 
Sometimes the ink 
defines a structure 
 
and divides the seen from unseen
 
I hoped my script
would sing like the cicada
 
I hoped my cursive
would shine like silver
 
I hoped to earn
the graces of this paper
 
I hoped to keep a language 
for my dreams

John Tessitore
​
John Tessitore has been a journalist and biographer. He has taught history and literature at colleges around Boston and directed national policy studies on education and civil justice. He serves as Co-Editor Across the Pond for The Wee Sparrow Poetry Press. His poems have appeared in a variety of journals and he has published five chapbooks and a novella available at johntessitore.com.