I have a Chinese friend
who says I should write poems
about pomegranates and chrysanthemums.
A Japanese business acquaintance says
poems should be populated by sakura and Lotus.
I tend to think of their advice
in the deadest days of winter
when snow presses against the house
as if seeking its faint warmth.
As I thinly sliced the tender shoots
of bamboo and dampen the edge
of the gyoza wrappers I think
of them and want to tell them,
but I am no more than
a male ginkgo, barren of leaves,
awaiting the summer and the hope
the birds and squirrels will pollinate
my female partner across the bed,
across the path, and until spring
I shall remain no more
than a barren maidenhair.

First Published in A Gathering of Poets and Writers, Legal Studies Forum Vol XXXIV, No 2, 2010