I leave the station and get swept along in the tide of people flowing into the park. A convoy of cars and trucks nudge past preparing for some sort of event.
菊。
Beyond the museums,
a ceiling of red, yellow and blue.
Beyond the red, yellow and blue,
a tribe dwells under plastic sheets.
宿無し。
へ~!
既視感です。
As I round the corner of the lake, I realise I have arrived at the place where I ate my lunch...