It’s too late in the season for mosquitoes
but warm enough to languish
in the twilight reflected from the bay.
I love how it illuminates the bouganvillea spilling
through the cyclone fence, bracts lighting up
like red paper lanterns on the Li River.
I hold my breath, picture myself swimming
underwater. Several minutes later, I surface
and sidestroke to a tiny drifting boat.
A pair of cormorants preeneing on the bow
salute my approach by entwining their necks.
The lime green buddha I once saw in a cartoon
is frying up the day’s catch, long earlobes
swaying with the rocking of the boat.
I haul aboard and sit cross-legged
beside the warm hibachi. Green Buddha’s
half-smile breake into a grin: Hey,
I’ve been expecting you—dinner’s almost ready.
- – - – - – - – - -
Squaw Valley Review, 2003
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