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.

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

fznor

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

My Pictures: A cold evening in Harbin

Hidden around the bleating clouds,
I see your silence on winter trees.
Wrapped inside a crystal veil,
to make an even face.

Within the width of this cold day,
nothing but a sunless smile.
With frost, a spectre grey
and pale moon looking on.

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

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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

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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.

Last days of the year
I was sat in my favourite cafe,
drinking coffee.
Streets no longer crowded,
a city heavy and slow
with the flushing of the old year.

Shadows passed,
along with the other imitators of life.
But I am older now,
a part accepted
and conversations burning away.
I see the shadows for what they are.

I thought about a friend I know,
consumed by ill-fate and impossibility.

He asked me last night
……………“What is your life like?”

I took only a moment to answer
“There’s always better work down the line….”

Words have magic

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My Picture: The last treatment today.

Hiding the pain

I spent the afternoon

listening to John Coltrane,

‘The lost album’.

And as winter fights to stay,

with rooms dark and somber.

I started to figure it out.

Nature’s single breath,

and an eternal now.