Thursday, April 16, 2015

On a segment

By X. Z. Shao

On a segment
of a road of yellow earth
winding up to a mountain
where I gathered fire woods
as a child,
I pulled over me a quilt
in restlessness.
I called my love
in anxiety,
but I failed to get through
after multiple tries,
then I realized
it was a long disused
old fashion mobile.
I called her again
with anther device
but it turned out
to be a remote controller
of an air conditioner.
I remembered
I was with her earlier
in a bleak wooden house
by a riverside.
We seemed close
within a space of a few meters.
She engrossed herself
with her affairs,
occasionally smiled,
but did not heed my words.

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