February spring:
the government has shut down,
but the mountains and rivers remain,
warming too soon
after the three months' fire
like songbirds nesting in the next-door full-green tree,
about to depart.
Here I am, a low official in an outer district,
hair going white as new blossoms,
taking count of the migrants coming in
between sections of the uncompleted Wall
like letters from home,
pleading asylum from our war,
and I interpret to the guardians of law
what they have to say.
After Du Fu: Spring Vista by Dan Bellm | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
