One by one, I catch the stars.
Double-shot coffee
or jasmine cold brew.
A man praying to Buddha,
across the street.
Sand glazes on Kenting beach.
Plum-rain that sizzles,
with cicadas humming.
Bamboo blinds,
no longer hidden.

An island, deep in meditation.
Supple as a new born child,
aching with
no expectations.
Blue magpies, now calling –
urgently waiting
for next seasons stars.