In the village of Akishino,
a woman pounding cloth with a stone
on a stone until sunlight turns to dusk.
Autumn deepening all around.
When will the cloth be ready?
In two, in three hundred years
it becomes a scroll hanging in a museum
and the guard turns to look at it every night
before turning off the lights. He turns to look at it
because he does not like it, it glows,
and he is a suspicious man,
well suited to his job.
At home before going to bed
he looks at his wife for a long time 
as though she were a secret.
Although far from young
her skin is beautiful when it sleeps.
He turns the lamp off.
Everything is serious in the dark.
He thinks in the morning he will ask her
to wash the sheets more often. Or
less frequently, he can’t decide.