Poem for a
Fisherman
Breathe in lotus scent
A season without boundaries
You roll up your sleeves
Punting your boat up narrow creeks
Not thinking of me
Darling
Have you not seen
Mandarins
Paired, quacking harmonies
By your shady rock
The Hermit’s
Temple at Zifu
Ren made this
Beautiful, apart
Tourists chattering
Scrawling sentiments on lime-washed walls
The shrine of the lotus holds no names
The landscape of paths
Of water
Reflects subtleties set in grassy pools
Golden Wheel Pavilion
Brushes clouds
A view towards the river
In the mind
Under Yinwu
Eaves
Poems are made of seasons
Moon moods, flowers found on bright days
Cloud-shapes of gods floating by
I tied back the curtain roll
And left it that way
I shifted my couch for the mountain view
Napping here ever since
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