a petal might fall

It's the last day of June, and I wonder 

when a petal might fall.

Photo: Peony in England

dark enough

I have always liked ferns. As a child, I would go 

to a little valley to the west of the home, 
just dark enough with leafy plants, 
but not too dark.

Photo: Ferns, New Zealand

I am thinking of ears

These days, I am taken by the ear. 

A new friend has recently had two operations to improve the way she hears sound, and I think of her.

Yesterday, I read about the longfin eel, which lives between fresh and seawater like salmon do, but in the opposite direction. Longfin can live about one hundred years, and the lifetime can be counted. Inside the ear is a bone with an annual ring.

And here, the ear sits high, and rimmed, and ready. 

Photo: At a museum in Paris

two winters

Six months ago, it was wintertime, and now, in another hemisphere, I am living in winter again. 

The first winter, I did not really know how to lay a fire, but now, we have warm flames almost every day.

Photo: A winter day, Hong Kong

members welcome

In the past little while, several friends have had babies, created from their own bodies, or adopted from others. How many soft faces have I seen.

 And several friends have new homes. This table stands among hills and horses and hedges, and another wide wooden table newly stands in the winter terrace outside my study. 

Welcome.

Photo: Early summer, England

The Louvre shopping

The Louvre is on top of a shopping mall 

with many top-end brands. There is also 

a post office below that offers Louvre postmarks.

Photo: Swipe here, The Louvre, Paris

one mood, two

What would you call this mood?

Photo: Wire, tree, wall, Hong Kong

I feel like writing

Somehow, this gathering of ply strips

makes me feel like writing. The layers, 

the parts, the subtle colo(u)ring.

Photo: Street, Hong Kong

first sun

First sunny day in a while.

Thank you.

Photo: Wairarapa, New Zealand

metronome arms

Is walking and freedom the same thing, 

the way we step into stride with the soft scissors 
of our metronome arms

Photo: Hong Kong sidewalk

Text: The opening of my poem, 'the act of walking'
Read the whole poem here

car, carless

I once lived on a carless island.

Photo: Top of car, England

river rings

Has anyone ever counted these?

Photo: The Seine, Paris

blue balls, bright meals

Friends, bright and social, keep this glassy tree 
near their table.  Time in their home shines.

Photo: London home

up

Many days ago, I lived in this home, and today, 
we will read poetry a few doors away. 
Also up.
Stairs.
Photo: Newtown, New Zealand

island tree

I fly over an island today.
Photo: Tamarind tree, Philippines

city villages

A friend and I happened upon this village one evening, and as I type, I am in a village in another city.
Photo: Pokfulam, Hong Kong

moving, movement

Tonight, in a house among trees,
four poets and six musicians gather.
I would like movement.
Photo: Tree bark, London
Event: Rhythm and Verse, Lopdell House, 
Titirangi, Auckland, North Island, New Zealand

sound and scoop

How I love the sound of the coin down the chute 
of the Hong Kong tram, and how I love the feel of the finger 
along this scoop for coins in London.
Photo: At a ticket counter, London Underground

together

There are so many ways of being 
together.
Photo: Pipes, Hong Kong

for condoms and

Right after I took this photo, a station attendant told me that there was a beautification project on, and that he didn't think the plants would grow well, that there was hardly any light. He said I was the second person to take a photograph that morning. 

I said I thought the repetition of shapes was interesting -- the planter and the bin -- but I didn't say anything aloud about the shape of a condom.

Photo: London Underground

diamond night envelope

A boxy envelope trying to open itself

one evening.

Photo: In front of Hong Kong Arts Centre.

I present as a gift to my birthday sister L.

you make me smile

Another bright idea.

Photo: Beside a pub, Evesham, England

seeing the mona lisa

Before you see the painting, you will see 

many people and many signs, like these two red ones, 

telling you to beware of pickpockets.

Photo: In The Louvre, Paris

little w

Lightbulb dance steps 

from a little w.

Photo: London pavement

copper season chair tube

Winter, spring, summer or fall, 

these chairs are here.

Photo: A metro station in Paris

pagoda tree

It was a warm afternoon when I happened 

upon this orange place, and I kept a 4R print 

of the image in my journal for weeks, months, 

for the grace and strength.

Photo: Location unrecorded, somewhere in Japan

I am thinking of China

So many Junes ago, when the moon was not seen, we lost as much as we can lose: young people who were just beginning to see, who were just beginning to believe.

Today, so many Junes later, with the moon seen in its fullness, maybe the country is beginning to see, to see enough to believe. 

Maybe. 

Photo: Banyan tree opposite Victoria Park, Hong Kong

site of June 4 candlelight vigil since 1989

boomerang

I know of a man who studied boomerangs for seven years, taken by the way they can return to the thrower, the mathematics of the action, the swishing sound, the grace in the descent. 

This cloud seemed to stay in the same place for about an hour.

Photo: Masterton, New Zealand

making a turn

I have just moved to a new country. 

Photo: Parking lot, Hong Kong

flower tongue

A tongue, 

showing a tuft of orange 

fungal growth.

Photo: Iris, Ernest Gardens, England