Festival of the Rushes


the drawing contest
comes to a close
i’m tired of it
although my fame has spread across the land
i know myself as a pebble
whose curve will never be followed
by the artist’s hand
saying goodbye
i climb into my boat
and row through a clump of rushes
to my small house
on the other side of the lake

[This poem carries the influences of the Chinese poet Tu Fu and the Japanese poet Basho, blended, one reflecting the other like green leaves reflecting darkly in still water.]

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