TROUT   [ 2 ]


Canton, 1797

In the heart of the world
too soon dismissed,
I cannot enter
her house.
Apostle of motion,
my wind-chopped eyes
as a stranger's,
I am disguised.
The mouth of the river
silting with spice,
I must return home,
dedicate myself
to the work.

I cannot enter her house.



Brian Flaherty
   © 1997

Shamian Island

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