The sun is setting behind the western
hills.
Grasses and trees reflect its glowing
light—
but there are places dark and primitive
where pines and creeping vines
entwine.
And there the tigers huddle and wait!
As I’m determined, they bristle and
rise.
I’ve not the slightest sharp edge in
my hand.
Of course I feel a reflexive
fright.
278-red
pine; watson-98;// 134-tanahashi; 144-henricks
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