FOLDING SCREEN

I mean to set no boundary,

but kindly rest your gaze outside,

amid the pine shade of this painted screen.

Though your face can’t be paper, wood your bones,

imagine entering this ancient garden

from a frozen age, excused from court

for “illness” to the hermit’s life

behind the screen.

No unsettling upheavals, at peace

with a safe margin,

not caring to see all of anything.

No need to sift each word.

It’s written ”Block evil wind, stop mist and fog”.

Beyond, wind passes.

Does it bring a damp and heavy dew?

Or just seem to?

If you look past the screen, what’s there?