The Clearing
There's a clearing growing orange sweet potatoes
and yellow corn. Below, near a creek are
banana plants and wild red flowers
with long leaves and purple veins
The creek runs with crystal clear water
sometimes with flowing dried leaves and white roots
flowing like a fairy's hair, and white bubbling water
gushing gently like a swaying baby crib
And there's a bush with green sour fruits
with white seedy meat, when peeled are
good to eat at hot weather, and also white lilies,
when crump-led are like blisters from bites of spiders
I think of this place each time I'm sad
remembering being with my sister
carrying seedlings of rice plants on our heads
walking gracefully along the rice paddies on bare feet
with the December wind blowing our skirts
and our long hairs. I think of her pearly smile
but sadly recalling the grayness of her breathless face.
This clearing is where I go to be with her
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