My Picture: Taiyuan, Shanxi Province, China.

It seems at times I can’t be older.
A white haired smile
and a fossil imprint,
infused with a hunters despair.

Exotic summers still remain,
and winter days without
a breeze are wildly wept on.
I still remember how the stillness dazed.

As night pushes into day,
I taste the fragrance of your flesh.
A flower soaked in persistent rain,
a tiny track in fallen snow.
Each step, and again is silent.