from the bones of animals
the factory had made these buttons
a bodice over the bust
of a gorgeous working-girl
when she fell
one of the buttons came off in the night
and the water of the gutters took it
and laid it down
in a private garden
with a crumbling plaster statue
naked and laughing.
“traveling in the mountains”
travelling homesick with the west wind,
the dust of my cart rises to the evening clouds
the last cicadas drone in the yellowing leaves.
in the sunset a man’s shadow looms like a mountain.
one by one the birds go to roost.
i wander aimlessly and never go home.
i pause above a stream and envy the fisherman
who sits there in solitude and leisure,
thinking his own elegant thoughts.
(sun yun feng)
the mill is buried
under the lake with the plum trees,
the melons, the pools where trout
once took cover. some say
there’s more than darkness
down there, that beneath the buried
bridge slides the silent