Zang Di

Room and a Plum Tree

There was a moment after all
when the woman in the room was young
standing still before the window of April
On her slim shoulders landed two white pigeons

But perhaps there were no pigeons
It was her branching body
that made us feel the dew-wet tranquility
and hot intestines sprouting from her deep veins

The plum tree bloomed full like stars
illuminating her face with its first flowering
and through her glowing gaze
framed the bluest mystery in that room