[wpaudio url=”/audio/march11/kon.mp3″ text=”listen to this poem” dl=”0″]
but for the forgotten men
no watch, greying occasions
like dust, ash, pale-faced

milky obedience
to stand in one place, within
chalked circles on wood

or we could kick off our shoes
and run, the north wind

a freedom beyond being
its plains like joy, wings of talc

but for this moment

this condition of questions
of what and what if, what of
li rong immersed, no shadow

but for his zither, its song

thin lines drawing out
this frosted moth in amber

sudden rush of plum and gold

* This is a response poem to an ode to Li Rong, an important philosopher-poet in Chinese history.