for W. G. Sebald
my hometown
memories hang from the eaves
of a rooming house
they tremble faintly
each time a day passes
loneliness
has her black eyes
through them
I see my past rolling
on the screen of spring nights
in mind space
time moves in my direction
it curls back
when I visit my mother
in daydreams
everyone I meet
speaks with a funny accent...
in dreams
I return to my hometown
an ocean away
Lynx, XXVII:1, February, 2012
Butterfly Dream: Wild Bluebells Haiku by Marion Clarke
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*English Original*
washing windows
the wild bluebells
bluer
Marion Clarke
*Chinese Translation (Traditional)*
清洗窗戶
野生的風信子
看起來更藍
*Chinese Translation (...