The Dry Season (China)

Dry Season (China)

A calming walk along the river bank
exposed after weeks of no rain,
a long continuous row of willow trees
lines the length of the park,
roots seeking moisture from deep below,
scooters, bikes, walkers, old, young, families,
all walk the inlaid stones and view
the sluggish brown river below.
The constant fisherman, some on
flat bottomed bamboo rafts,
others stand motionless
along the receding shore,
it is the dry season now
and they spend the day in futile design.
Young couples hand in hand oblivious
to the world while
men in tense groups thrust worn bent
cards to a dirty wooden table,
two brown poodles play on the grass,
an old man crippled and bent walks
tightly with his wife every night,
small boys play with their bubble machines,
they eagerly run past my bench and stare
at my strange western face,
soon distracted they run along the path.
The evening cools, after a long hot day.
The gardener brings out his ancient turn table,
opera clear and pure transcends the willows.
The dancers will soon arrive.



m.r.