Silas Thorne's Journal

Brow beat in midday sun
my hair’s a wet tangle.
One scratch, and the game’s done.

Sea, fresh in my breaths in,
warm toes, curled in cool sand,
I know the count’s long done.

Still in the dunes, heart slow,
a cricket lands by me,
chirping in the long grass.
chirp chirp, chirp chirp, chirp chirp;
You peng zi yuan fang lai*,
in time, we say goodbye.

My fine guest leaves, rested,
I stand, and climb the dunes.
That game is long over.


* A friend comes to visit from afar