Yasu Na

A Lane

I see a long and straight lane
   Covered with the shiny yellow leaves.
At the entrance to this lane
   A large red mailbox stands.

I have a postcard with a poem.
   It is important and properly stamped.
And then I turn white in shame
   Because I remember a failure of the past.

One winter day like today
   I forgot to stamp my fateful letter.
This fact reminds me of the different way
   Which could be better.

A life is as firmly definite as a lane
   In front of me, and beyond repair.
Have I ever been filled with shine?
   I stand by the mailbox, viewing the lane from here.