Noisy tires come rolling
Around deceptive bends
Swish like waves on a beach
A series licks the shoreline
Until someone's tsunami muffler
Thunders through my head
Ears unclog
In a left-right Doppler effect
Ratchet down a wavelength
Making me long for a real ocean
Crashing Brighton, sitting on a beach,
Not a hard bench facing the River Han
In Brooklyn, the worst of winter is yet to come
Though the days' light have passed the night
February, and the sun strays, clouded, but
Subtropical Taichung begins her spring
A new year of sunning egrets congregate on a tree
Migrate flock settles to nest in the wetlands
In finicky weather, a reprieve of southern breeze
Causes tall grass to leans northward
Contrary to the river flowing to Taiwan Strait
Mountains, of fog unclothed
Like mossy terrarium hills
Chinese air will win this tug of war still
More of this nonsense
Before plum rains bring their sustenance
How could I know if the tide is high or low?
How can I pretend a beach will mend my heart?
In these asphalt skies, where no seagulls squawk by
A dappled landscape that makes me cry
February 3. 2019
www.readingsandridings.jimdo.com
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Copyright © 2019 by David Barry Temple. All rights reserved.
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