A poem reflecting on the last three months of my life in Taiwan.

Horns and whistles
and moving clouds.
High-rise buildings
marinating in the
mid-day sun.
The air full of fire dust,
and small weeds
are soldiers sent to
the front.

When I look around,
the trees stand
and have nothing to do.
A childlike wisdom, strong
with effeminate voices.
A people, embraced
by a tribe.