spring2015

Steve WestThe Wannabe Chinese Poet Spends a Day on the RiverOnce again I seek silence,but the water runs;a bird mocks me.Somewhere a tree falls,and yes, I hear it.This time I find silenceSitting on a boulder.The shadow of a hawkMakes no sound; silenceApproves, nodding as if to sleep.The night is only silentFor short periods, likeSomeone opening a doorAnd then closing it as lightlyAs possible.I listen intently, fearingI’ve missed something important.It’s all important.83