At the Cemetery

[Lake]

At the Cemetery

We’ve come to see you, my old man.
She murmurs, wipes the dust
from your face, a vigorous, handsome
face looking straight at us.

Now you dwell in this small room,
windowless, with a glass door,
on the wall, not too low, nor too high,
a perfect spot as feng shui says.

I peep into your neighbor’s -
incense sticks, ash holders, ghost
money, fake fruit, an elegiac couplet
over a lacquered casket.

You don’t need all that. You came
into this world naked, and quietly departed
the same. We talk softly about death, your will -
our words moistened by the spring rain.
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the trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry -- Billy Collins

[William Zhou周道模]

deep and vivid.
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诗歌是灵魂的歌唱.
周道模

[Lake]

thanks William.
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the trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry -- Billy Collins