New Poem

For A. X.


She was holding up half the sky.

With her free hand,
She placed you in mine.

For One Hundred Years you wept.

Retrieving single strands
From Silk Cocoons.

For One Hundred Years.

Now you are in our Miracle Mile,
Rosebuds intact, no worse for wear.

“Ni Hao Ma?”
“Hao. Ni ne?”.


©2008 alan.caudillo

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