POEM OF THE DAY
April 17
Angry, blissful sunset. Roof garden teeter.
Eyeballing westward China Sea Junk.
Scarlet-sailed. Blazing. Ancient as bluster
Lashing back to Pak Kong Village …
Where fishing means just that.
Rival blood? Livelihood? Cruel luck (or intention)?
Far-flung. Lonesome in this bough-broken cradle,
My woeful, crimson felt-tip … running out of ink.
Angry, blissful sunset. Roof garden teeter.
Eyeballing westward China Sea Junk.
Scarlet-sailed. Blazing. Ancient as bluster
Lashing back to Pak Kong Village …
Where fishing means just that.
Rival blood? Livelihood? Cruel luck (or intention)?
Far-flung. Lonesome in this bough-broken cradle,
My woeful, crimson felt-tip … running out of ink.