In conclusion, while
he is also
in seclusion near that edge of town
where wind flies toward the sea
carrying lamp flicker and birds,
he finds
the reason she has haunted him.Not how softly slender she fell
into her sweater and skirt, both the mauve shade
of feather grass.
Not her perfect hand plucking
a string of kelp in the tide – a floating chord
of heartache
that became his own
when he overhead she’d be leaving
on the morning train to like numb fingertips
on the plum tree. Her luggage
locked up with everything she owned, loved.
No, it is the meaning
of her name – MáoYǔ
light rain. If only there had been
a soft shower, an ink wash on glass. Spring’s
characters saying and not saying
all the reasons
they should start again, grow
into
something pure, deep.
Then he wouldn’t be here, casting
his whole mind
into her shadow.
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