Han River Poems : Who No Longer Gives a Hoot

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

The last time I sat on the patio,

I had breakfast, coffee, and checked e-mail.

By choice to leave this condo though

If it meant more to me than love,

I would be staying.

Yes, like everything else in Taichung,

The environment has gotten worse

The coconut tree to the south is still beautiful;

But the sunset horizon has been truncated

By four high risers along the Han's west bank.

To the north, a twin tower was built

Blocking a section of mountain range, sunrise and

View of the other river's fireworks display

Closer to home, literally, the daily droning

Of an industrial fork lift moving bricks outdoors,

From dawn to dusk and weekends;

Whenever they want to churn my gut

And soon, to the north, a mere twenty feet across the lane

A building coming, heaven knows how tall

Long enough to block the wash and everything else behind it,

Not that it was great but it let my eyes breath for

The chirping birds and swooping egrets on their way to the Han to feed,

Mourning doves cooing so sweet this last week

but instead I bemoan an owl’s missing hoot,

All night long for years did he show,

Now, where has he gone?

I guess he's like me and

Doesn't give a hoot about this place anymore.

February 23, 2021

Han River Poems