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WOODEN PILLOW 鐵笛倒吹 六十
If, sitting at your mealyou hear the song of a bird,what do you do?You may tap your chopstick rest,and perhaps he will answerand repeat his sweet song.If you tap a second timeand there is only silenceis the bird rejecting youor offering his song to another,flown from your window. Perhaps you should tap againand hear the…
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CAPACITY
It is not that I am gettingforgetful as I grow older, it ismerely that I am replacingold information with new,my mind is large butits capacity is still finite. So if I forget your namewhen I see you, it is notbecause you do not matter,although that could be the case,it is simply that I nowremember the…
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LOOKING
As you look at him or herdo you see someone witha beauty you only wish you had,or someone you pityfor lacking your beauty? As they look at youdo they see someone witha beauty they only wish they hador someone they pityfor lacking their beauty? When I look at either of youI see a person like…
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LIGHTS
For eight days each Decemberthey call out to me as the flameof the candles flickers out,“Remember me” they say in unison,“remember me”, in the voice of the child,an old woman, in Yiddish,in Polish, German, Czech, Latt.I want to remember but I cannot seea face reduced to ash, blendedinto the earth of a farm field outside…
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A TWISTED ROAD
Walking down the helicalroad, untwisting as you goyou discover placesyou never imagingedvisiting, nothinglike the path youthought you knew well. Stop and claimyour new heritage,find yourselfon an alien map,bury yourself in booksof new and ancient history. Pause here and considera King of Scotland,knights and lords,in the far distanceknow that you claima link to a manso honored…
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HEAVEN, UTAH
We would sit around the small parkas evening made a hasty retreatto somewhere, anywhere more livelythan Salt Lake City in the heart of summer. We’d pass a jug of whatever wascheapest at the state package store,usuall Gallo this or that, and roll jointswhich made their way around our circle. The cops would drive by every…
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KYOSEI’S STICK 鐵笛倒吹 六十四
If Kyosei asksfrom where I have comehow will I answer him?If he asks wheremy teacher liveswhat will I tell him? Such a fool I amto wander from there to herefrom here to another placeseeking a pathon which Iam always standing still.Thirty blows isthe least I deserve.But Kyosei withdrawsthe stick. A reflection on Case 64 of…
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GRAMMATICALLY APART
What sets us apartfrom other specieshas little or nothingto do with self-awarenessand everything to dowith parts of speech. The birds outsidemy window shun labels,think only of eating,mating, flight, of goingand arriving, of being. They know nothing of birth,do not fear death, for itis merely a label they cannotaccept or understand. It is left to our…
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SIREN SONG
I should stand on the shoretake up a great shelland blow a trumpet songto the whales who stayalways just beyond sight. I have no shoreon which to standand had I one, I lackthe skill to plucka song from a shelland so the whalesI imagine offshoremust listen carefullyto the song I castdeep within my dreams.
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FEEDER
The seed specklesthe snow like buckshotpiled neatly under the branchwhere we, fingers numbed,tied the little chaletto the lowest limbof the ancient maple.The birds stand staringas the squirrel swingsslowly in the breeze. First Appeared in Echoes, March – April 1996.
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