Under the cotton trees,
the carpet lawn is strewed
with their scarlet flowers.
with their scarlet flowers.
Up over their leafless canopies,
crimson buds and blossoms
are burning flames.
Where is there so much blood
bursting out of their veins?
How can their barren branches,
without a single leaf,
sprout coral longings out of nowhere.
Even the pale twigs taking their backseats
are dyed in red.
can you bear
the red on the ground against the green
the red above, violent and wild?
You’d better quicken your steps,
or you would be lured to linger on and on
until your heart were set on fire.
Night, December 10, 2010
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