I hear your silence

Shanghai quarantine poem #7

A single bird,
marks the sky –
absorbing the pain.
My only companion
for two weeks.
And then what?
My lungs won’t
fill with pity.
Or the thin
remains of winter.
Wilderness means
something else here.
With wings enough,
I hear the sound –
of jade bells ringing.
Then, we will see
our promised land.

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