US-24 Woman in Red Vest 19990604
Every morning I take the Metro
Down to the jungle of cement
To hunt for the day\'s bread
With all other commuters
Dull, sleepy as I am
Until she steps into the bus
Her husband driving away
The sun starts to shine earlier
Into the dawn of the day
Her red vest over her white silk shirt
Her green blouse a well contoured landscape
And her well groomed hair of gold
Highlights a strikingly featured face
Her black silked legs are as graceful
As the marble sculptures of ancient Greece
And her nose, slightly up-lifting
Features a live Norman Rockwell
At Dallas she gets off the bus
And mingles into the traffic
Her red vest over her white shirt
Fades like a drifting petal
Everything is so right about her
This woman in red vest
I wonder how come Creation has
Wasted time in fabricating others
US-25 Memories 19960510
In May, the late afternoon sun
Pierces
The drowsy sleep covered by the aged salty wall powder
Cutting open
The memory of a quiet afternoon
On my dust covered pupil
The dark brown file cabinet at the corner of the old house
The Beijing in grandma’s photo
A poster named Youth to Motherland
Highlights the zeal of the time
The summer bean vines outside
Cast the shadow of leaves
Upon the paper windows
The old radio on the cabinet
Remains silent
Tired of endless roaming
I leave the luggage trunk open
Too lazy to sort
The accumulated laziness of forty years
Just let the wound spring of a clock
Tick away the temporary stay
Wondering how much solitude
Is waiting for me next stop
US-26 Scenes in Pacific Grove 199906xx
Morning fog hangs low
Idle waves lick the shore
Rocks pile up like clouds
The boundless ocean touches the sky far away
Sea gulls skim over the surface of the sea
Two or three anglers
Cast lines from high bank
Ignoring the thundering of crashing waves
Little trails meander though a carpet of purple flowers
Sounds of humans and traffic occasionally mix
Not wanting to return home at the height of my mood
I sit on a bench silently to face a distant lone sail