Painting by Tom Wood
YANG CHU’S POEMS 482
The flight of the wild geese
Blocked out the light
Reflected from the moon.
The light gone, the hermitage gate
Could not be seen.
Josh was tranquil
While the flight
Of the long row
Of wild geese
Blocked out moonlight.
Duane Locke
Posted over on Penhimalaya
1 comment:
There is something about wild geese that always sets a melancholia stirring in me. End of summer, I guess. Mirgration. Snows coming. The Long Winter Of Laura Ingalls Wilder.
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