Kyoto

It'd always be a surprise
To see life—stopped
In front of one's eyes.

The dragonfly hovered—then
Landed on the floor of the corridor. 
The sun bleached the wood, 
And the cicadas chattered like tourists in the hall. 
I stared at my solemn company and its vein-sculptured wings
Until I noticed an uneasy silence.

I encouraged it to fly—away, 
From this temple, from something dreadful. 
In frenzy, I disturbed its 
Rest—but it was too late.

It did not move—

With another push, 
It fell over—and 
I left it
There—untouched.

A few minutes later, a
Sudden crack echoed its second death. 
One large foot-sole towered
Over its dead body (the careless wanderer walked on, 
But I am his accomplice).

I (stood up 
And) walked in front of an 
Ancient bell—with both hands gripped tight, 
I pulled the thick rope—clapped twice—
Then I prayed, for good health.

Dale Chou
2001-08-14