I question a local boy under a pine.
He says, "Teacher is gathering herbs
right here on the mountain...
But who can say where?
The mountain is thick with clouds."
“Seeking a Hermit-Sage in Vain” by Jia Dao [w/ Audio]
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a daytime half moon,
feeble compared to at night,
yet I stop to look.

I don’t mind one crow,
on a rail or curb,
by its lonesome.
Nor am I troubled by
a large number of the birds.
(The group designation “murder,”
notwithstanding.)
But where two or three
are gathered, facing
each other…
That’s when I get the
heebie-jeebies.

an egret peers
into the lake, past
surface reflections?
When early morning sunlight warms
The vibrant lakeside greenery,
All of those cave-like lakeside trails
turn psychedelic scenery.
The leaves become so translucent
Butterfly and bee silhouettes
Stretch out at distorted angles --
Beasts beyond being caught with nets.
Despite being sober and fresh
The mind reels or seeks to reset.

budding limbs:
vibrant growth unseen from
the city beyond.

swamphens strut
at water’s edge, and
i’m a farmboy again.

late afternoon sun
catches yellow bloom clusters:
the day’s last hurrah.