My Pictures: Harbin, China this evening.
Life
A river cracks
My Pictures: Songhua River Bridge this evening. Harbin, China.
Walking alone on the Songhua River,
a soft hiss and a crack.
White sides to the moon,
and ice stars all around.
A quick slide in half-light.
And in bridge shadow,
reflected memories, no sun.
Cold air fills with strong scent….
…… beginning to thaw.
Sunset in Harbin

My Picture: Taken this evening in Harbin, China.
Sunset, becomes half a moon.
Winter is almost over.
A short pause for deep thought,
makes brilliant the darkening trees.
Snow people of Harbin
My Pictures: Taken this evening , Songhua River, Harbin, China.
Away from the crowds,
I found the snow people.
Once snowflake beautiful,
now silent and waiting for the longest night.
Just moments before,
made with tiny hands and love.
And wishing fame would last for ever.
Now those clouds, war horses on the march…
will have their day.
At first, they would not talk to me
but I reached to the clouds.
I wanted to know what the snow people
thought about life and death.
The British one found me and whispered in my ear……
“ Why are you here… there is only endless change, and no destinations”.
Awake in Harbin

My Picture: Gogol Street, Harbin, China – Taken this evening
The star is still shining
waiting in silence for the dawn.
Before, a night of solitude
so unsleeping….
A faint light as stillness descends.
At least for you, I still seek the sun.
Our life, our hope
a scattered longing
in Harbin darkness.
Zhongyang Street
Songhua River
My Pictures: Taken today in Harbin, Heilongjiang, China – Walking on the frozen river.
My soul companions
dancing in the winter breeze.
Memories of a life frozen
deep below the Songhua River.
Each step a slow procession,
of love torn conversations.
In winter solitude
I make my home…
A New Year in Harbin

My Picture: Harbin this evening….New Years Eve in China
Fingers slowly freeze,
on this New Year’s Eve.
The fast dipping moon,
cold sleeps around my face.
Clutches of deep red lanterns,
parade to empty streets.
And ice stars dance,
sick from half melting
and clinging to a desperate sun.
My skin stings in the cold wind,
ice white and torn inside.
I can see my breath,
now singing for the first warm day.
A winter day in Xinxiang

My Picture: Xinxiang, China.
A sky full of black,
a delicate insight
to a day gray day dawning.
Standing alone
I can smell the end of winter sadness,
joyous despair and a pale spring rattle.
The stars ease their tears,
I watch them in the cold February air.
And trace the shapes of mood and gesture.
Year of the pig
My Pictures: Today – Xinxiang Medical University, Henan, China.