A Hundred Gourds 2:3 June 2013
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page 3  

Eyes Of The Fish

so hard the rain the rosebush in my garden waited for so long

cupped hands reveal the true Grail

just an illusion of a phoenix rising up from ashes

the song we never heard slowly fades away

when darkness comes for whom it shines the moon-bell in the sky?

inside the edge of the shade morning chill

feels unusual at first the weight of gold on his finger

grinding stones wearing each other smooth

frozen in the pond eyes of the fish are dry and open

non stop National Geographic

silent the plum tree in full bloom illuminates the evening

warm breeze turning pages of The Tales of Ise

Vladislav Vassiliev, England, and Valeria Simonova-Cecon, Italy

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