Category: Writing

Chestnuts in Kowloon

Chestnuts in Kowloon

I have been to the Fragrant Harbor
far away,
where the people sounded like rain
upon the cobblestones,
and their laughter I called my own,
for once, for a little while
I was there

with you as we walked
past market stalls with the cackle
of hagglers
and scents of sesame and jasmine
filled the air,
we climbed tall buildings
and the peak of a mountain,
I was there

with you as we crossed the harbor
along with salt and seaweed,
by noon we reached Kowloon
famished,
and we shared a paper bag
filled with roasted chestnuts:
there by the lotus pond,
the moist white warmth and our dreams
fed our nameless hunger —

now the Fragrant Harbor awaits
far away,
but I am no longer there,
save the shriveled husks of chestnuts
we threw away so long ago
that for once, for a little while
burned among the coals.

by D. G. V. © 2012

Last Days of Summer


Last Days of Summer

Lemon scents linger
from blooms of white magnolia,
while a cool breeze tiptoes,
donned in ornate lace
into a summer dusk cathedral:
I hear the mellow sound of shaken leaves
upon their sun-tanned branches,
harp strings stroked by fingers
of the wind —

The purple grosbeak’s song endures
into the night,
nectared notes delight
as I revel in these ardent days
of crimson apples,
the primrose pulp of aubergine plums,
the musk-white fragrance of orange
blossoms,
the golden cloak of summer’s warmth
upon the vibrant flowers.

by D. G. V. © 2012

** photography by Roman Niku