Deep and dark now
whalebone and winter rain.
Thin plates to enlarge the circle,
a hand to the sky.

Unafraid, a black bird
watches me approach.
Trees shift, and gulls turn the day
no other words come.

Silent friends meeting,
the sound of chairs being moved ,in and out.
Tears in silver foil litter the ground
and white wind eyes darken the mood.

I look at the rain shadow and distant virga,
razored through and losing its name.
And yet, a fleeting symbol of life
a returning sea, seducing the summer sun.

Old church doors
across the street.
Not creaking for anyone.

The Songhua River,
quite through bare trees….
never quite full.

Yet faintly, between the space,
a dutar plays a song.

A small patch of grass
surprises me as I turn.

Back in Xinxiang
the coffee tastes good.
'The Carpenters' are signing about love,
which becomes lost in time.
Never to be smooth again.

Deep inside, a spring longing.
A shadow still wedged between the rocks, and the rising spring river.
Seared into my aching bones.
Always to linger,
and never to be free.

The music stops, it always does.
Vaguely, I hear a sound....
        ..... a sweet voice
..... a distant voice
“Come close, and follow me.....”

Pulled into a violet world,
surrounded by the noise of our origin.
I see you...
and my unfinished flight.

Sometimes it is difficult to straighten
my saddened thoughts.
I make my bed, drink some coffee
and catch up on the world.
But it is not always enough.

I muddle through the day
swimming upwards, backwards
and from time-to time
finding moments to write
and see things differently.

On occasions I read Bukowski,
then I realize that things could be worse.
So I read Dickinson,
to find a tangible mind and spirit.

In the end, my thinking
always seems to end up in another room.
A landscape of the spirit,
blue sky and thinking open mind.

Another year without summer,
the cold sun fills the heavens and the earth.
Darkness on the edge of the city,
a hard moon sick and rising.
One suffers love, so meager

The Jade Emperor shows me a way forward.
A vision in light white silk, beyond the empty void
burning me up with hope……
my mind is awake……
No way now to hide the fire inside.

Oliver Mtukudzi died today.
My friend said
“So what….many singers die, it’s inevitable”
But I have a lingering mind…

Long before the shadows came,
and love was stolen from us.
We would listen to his music
and rainbows stood in a moment.

Oliver Mtukudzi died today…..

Deep cold in a dream,
dim sunlight splits
the winter moon.
A few flakes of snow,
hard to see.
Echo a spring longing,
that lies on a Chinese street.