The Bound Reeds

A rolled reed blind lay resting along the cedar bench beneath the eaves, sheltered from the morning damp. I climbed up from the gravel and walked the length of the weathered wood. Between two tightly bound bamboo slats, a sodden pine needle had wedged itself under the hemp cord. I braced my foot against the lower slat and worked the needle loose with both hands until the tension snapped the cord flat again. With the reed cleared, I sat on the curved roll, letting my hands rest on my knees as the alley dried beneath the pale gray sky.