You have to know how to look even if you don’t know what you’re looking for.
Saturday, 3 September 2011
Moored at Maple Bridge, by Ching An
Frost white across the river,
waters reaching toward the sky.
All I'd hoped for's lost
in Autumns darkening.
I cannot sleep, a man
adrift, a thousand miles
alone, among the reed flowers:
but the moonlight fills the boat
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