1

Where is Key's diamond rolling,
fallen from the platinum ring?
Carrying the weight of their love.
Lying unseen among glass pebbles,
or in the coarse sands of its native land?

2

Where is your letter traveling?
Have you released it yet?
Enveloping your tender words to warm my heart.
To the metalic mail box with my new adress.
To my hands starting an unfamiliar life.

3

Where is "GIFT FROM THE SEA" hiding?
Between other books,in a drawer,on a shelf?
Come back to me to stir my curiosity.
Take me to a new ocean teeming with life.
Show me another world in the waters.

Reading the map,walking,
to learn my new surroundings.

Looking back at the calendar,
recalling the drastic change of air
from our old neighborhood to the heart of Tokyo.

1200 fireworks exploding in the sky
bright above Tokyo Bay.
Energy of the six young visitors bursting
in our new living room.

The droning of cicadas echoing
day and night in the parched valley
of the concrete office buildings.

The air among the promenade trees
standing still,not a single leaf moving.

We,four hens, clucking all afternoon
over the elaborate Japanese lunch.

Strolling in the sun, sweating,
we found a waterfall in the woody shade.

The radio music flying to me in the air,
the dim lights putting me in a dream.
The Tower and The Bridge in my faraway eyes.

Replacing the cups and plates in the cupboards,
rearranging the plants before the housewarming,
feeling like playing house.

Foreign words sounding casually,
non-Japanese people using chopsticks
for their meals.

　　Gardning is my previous hobby.
Why is it "previous"?
Because I"ve moved from a house with a garden to the tenth floor of an eleven-story condominium.
I"ve now found the veranda here is too harsh for my plants to grow.

　　The door of our previous house opened to the east,so we enjoyed much morning sun.
In growing plants,sunlight is essential,especially,in the morning.In the small space in front of our entrance door,I arranged potted flowers ready to bloom.

　　Passers-by looked at them while walking.Many of them smiled at them and me, sometimes stopped to give nice compliments about blooming flowers.

The proudest thing for me is that I grew most of the flowers from seeds.I would say so, feeling like I was their mother.

　　I plant the seeds of spring blossoms in late September.They bud in green in several days.Their tiny leaves shiver in the cold,occasionally, under frost and snow.
After winter months,they begin to flourish as if they greet spring arrival.

　　In this way, pansies,north poles,forget-me-nots,daisies,poppies,all decorated the entrance space.I liked to have visitors to show their prime.I took a lot of pictures to hold their fragile beauty in my album.

　　After the spring flowers,I prepare next blossoms seeding them in late April.
Summer flowers grow faster owing to higher temperature, more rain, stronger sunshine.On the other hand,they are easily affected by diseases and worms.

　　I would enjoy salvias,marrygolds,impatiences in pots,and herbs in the garden.
Sweating body in the stuffy and humid air,I was busy watering them.

　　When we decided to move to the tenth floor,I immediately started to look for foster parents for my plants.Fortunately they were adopted by my friends who are interested in gardning.

　　Some plants moved with us and are now living in severe circumstances; strong wind, summer heat, less sunlight,and afternoon sun.
This is the time to discover another new method to raise them for their owner who HAD a green thumb.

On their way home from school
children looked for four-leaf clovers,
a promise of happiness.
The green carpet of clover forty years ago.

In the festive season the color and smell
of the first oranges watered our mouths,
and frowned our faces with their sour juice.
Green oranges, an early signal of autumn harvest.

Pronunciation was strange to the ear,
spelling annoying. Obstacles, many those
English exams, before our misty future.
The green ribbons on our school uniforms.

Boys looked nice and gentle.
Girls flushed to be approached,
sharing heart beating moments.
Green soda water at the senior high cafeteria.

Women's lib from across the sea
washed the campus. Female students
breathed the breeze of freedom and responsibility.
The green wooden buildings of my Alma Mater.

The folk songs sang for peace and love,
protesting hatred and prejudice.
"The answer is blowin' in the wind ..."
Green voices bright in the sun,
frustrated in the shade thity years ago.