when you are following
a cartload of plump pumpkins
you know autumn's come
April’s fool: here I am, here you’ve found me,
where I’ve always been, never forgetting,
I don’t know about waiting, or missing,
or about time passing: that’s what time does,
right? But time won’t heal, they just say it will,
and there you go—twenty-five years, you say?
Have I counted the days, the months, the years?
Have you? Haven’t we just let life go on,
welcomed false certainties, buried our heads,
sought surrogates, conformed to others’ views?
Here I am, your April’s fool, forever
swimming in that blue sea not meant for me.
this year, wary of making
plans that might dissolve.
Human and caring
for one single day, then back
to selfish ego.
A gorgeous squash soup
in a stylish jade-black bowl:
no time for pictures.
When opposites meet,
several things can happen—
Fiery, more than bright,
lonely in the darkest night,
the full moon's ablaze.
There are nights you feel
haunted by ghosts from your past:
face them with a smile!
If you are in doubt
whether the cold season's here,
just ask the sparrows.
What can be better,
apart from the scents of spring,
than autumn colours?