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As swallows swoop above the boat begins
To move although all of us people here
Stay still hearing the horn announce we have
Let go. The leaves of the rooted bamboo
Bend and sway. Mountains go back and further
Back into the clouds. The little boy’s foot’s
Tapping as he plays his computer game
Entranced as I am watching him. Oh to
Be a little kid again! There are things
I’ll never know but I can see the wind
That turns the page turns the wave as the night
Begins to turn the day darkening me
And the fluttering lady next to me
Turning to throw her rind in the Yangtze.

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