Classic Poem

Today you were supposed to come—
evening draws on
and rain drops are drying in the silent woods.
The incense has burned out;
I've practiced calligraphy so long
the brush-tip has gone limp.
A famous host once hid the linchpins
of his guests' chariots;
now, alone, thinking of you,
I stand leaning against the railing.
Who will dispel my loneliness for me?
Gulls and egrets crowd the shore.