My Picture:  View from my apartment window. Xinxiang City: Henan Province, China.

It is 6am in Xinxiang.
No one home, nothing filling up.
A dog howls, in a thick hoarse voice.
That breaks the silent part.

The moon still up this morning,
greets the eye as reflections blaze.
Unable to bear the past, a small
semblance of a lamp light future.

Only a street cleaner,
hardworking, lovesick and confused.
Occupies the space between common lines,
and the black gutters by the road.

I look through my window,
broken with slashes of hard metal.
A whirling cosmos of love, far away.
The only living thing in Xinxiang

The few stars left, able to
punctuate this blissful solitude.
Give time alone to heal,
to shape the earth to something else.