Daily Life+

なんでもない朝と特別でない夕暮れの隙間に日常を過ごし、
特別な朝となにかがあった夕暮れの隙間に追憶が紛れ込む。
春の始まりに降り忘れた驟雨をアルミ色の鳩が寄せ続けるように、
渇いた喉の奥に引っかかった昨日を熱いコーヒーで洗い流す。
雨雲が遠く見える地平線と28時間続く午後との境目は朧げで、
昨日までの異国がスーパーの買い物カゴの隙間に転げ落ちる。
そろそろ明日は来そうかと塗装の剥げ落ちた窓に反射する今日を眺め、
とっくに明日は過ぎたよと今日に反射する自分に言い聞かせる。
それもまた今日という日常。

On spending everyday in the gap between an ordinary daybreak and a non-special dusk, reminiscences spill into the crack between a morning and the evening after something special happened.

Just like the aluminum pigeons keep pulling the showers that someone forgot to rain at the beginning of spring, I’m washing away yesterday’s stuck in my thirsty throat with hot coffee.

While the boundary between the horizon where rain clouds can be seen in the distance and the afternoon that lasts for 28 hours is hazy, a foreign country until yesterday falls into a gap in a supermarket shopping cart.

Looking at the reflection on the window where the paint had peeled off, as if tomorrow was about to come,
I tell myself that tomorrow has already passed, which is reflected in today.

That’s also a part of daily life.