Shadblow

Because the shad
are swimming
in our waters now,

breaching the skin
of the river with their
tarnished silvery fins,

heading upstream
straight for our tables
where already

knives and forks gleam
in anticipation, these trees
in the woods break

into flower - small, white
flags surrendering
to the season.


Linda Pastan
The Georgia Review, vol. LV, no. 2, Summer 2001

--------------------------------------------------



I am waiting for winter
and it's imaginary warm glow
in snow,

you know,
like little angels falling white as you take a glance
to a dancer spinning across a faraway lake
looking sky.

so,
make me a wish and I would secretly smile in my mind delight,
because you didn't know our hands are made to be together,
I will take it like a glove towards its master,
and make heaven dwell in our snowman.

we would run wild through any cold and summer,
warm a moody cloud and touch its cry,
laugh a hearty and sing in silver thunders.

so don't leave me, not at 10pm
when my eyes closed its deepest longing
t'wards the fading dove that fanned a sacred desire
in you.


~
i gotha go, there's work to do,
lots.


Victor Tan
The Bored review, vol. RIP, no. 1, fading Summer 2008


"sing in silver thunders", lol: silver - old, thunder - argument.