Shih-Fang Wang

A Hot Day

The days drag on 

the sun with its dragon’s breath

threatens to consume the land

The sky becomes a withered blue

the clouds are frozen galleons

waiting for the wind

to sail across the mountains

to the sea

Trees and flowers are withering

all the animals retreat into the shade

await the end of Indian Summer

and the cooling winds 

of autumn to return 

to the desert lands

The Seasons

I cannot indulge myself

in the lovely flamboyance of spring

when flowers burst forth with sudden blooms

and the trees are in their prime,

because the beauty cannot last

I cannot abhor sultry summer

when the sun burns fiercely 

and humidity weighs me down

for it cannot last                 

I fear to favor the autumn 

when trees flame crimson 

and the sky is wind-swept blue         

for such dream-like scenes are fleeting 

But I accept the ruthlessness of winter  

when it buries the world in trembling white 

and the wind turns knife-sharp cold

for I know that it too will pass