Even the map had been washed away, even
the ground plan, all roads had become dredged memories after
the wave broke in, after the snow. Now
there was just the same chaos as before the world began.

    I followed footsteps
    of Basho and Chiyo-Ni,
    the haiku masters.

She had walked over the mountains to where
was once home. She had called out her mother's name.