Copse – Yuan Changming

 

Standing tall against the frozen sky

Your skeletons are the exquisite calligraphy

Of an entire season

Your name is curly writ

 

Not in water

But with wind

 

 

IMG-0647Yuan Changming published monographs on translation before leaving his native country. Currently, Yuan lives in Vancouver, where he edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan. Credits include ten Pushcart nominations, Best of the Best Canadian Poetry (2008-17) and BestNewPoemsOnline, among others.

Yes, I Can Hear What You Are – Stephen Mead

 

Yes, your fingers through darkness are

dialing this old rotary phone, yes, that purring whirl,

the disk spinning, yes, past numbers, yes, a

lit elevator set on reaching the right floor…

 

Yes, already your voice, yes, nectar pouring over,

liquid butterscotch soft, as you stand, yes, in

the distance, mouth shadowing the receiver &,

yes, those holes where, yes, breath travels

resonant as a shell pressed to one’s ear…

 

Such wavelengths are feel-able, yes, wisps

of incense gently bouncing against skin, yes,

schools of fragrance, each with a particular

taste, hue, texture, yes, the very air is filled

with their volume, yes, presences of whispers

flickering like quicksilver…

 

Reel the threads to me, yes, an invisible cable

spooling whirls through the night.

At last sound is touch, yes, porpoise-warm &

surfacing, yes, from strange water depths.

Love, yes, what you are is

a friendly primeval being calling my name

beyond rings, yes, there where we swim

blinking neon to then ascend, yes, yes,

lucent bubbles now one

 

 

me cropped to squareStephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer. Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online. He is also grateful to have managed to keep various day jobs for the Health Insurance. Find out more at Poetry on the Line, Stephen Mead.