Entry by Ann Huang



Unlike a bridge of musk-hued flowers,

Running through the warm streams to the Danube,

I, a distasteful one,

Have exited your crowded country.


The green moss falls

Like spiral waves of fish looming.

Your hatred falls backwards on me,



A blue-purple sun above a bright sea

A moonrise of shining ivory.

Amid the wind thru the sea shells–

Life, an archaic affair.



An old apple tree under the tip of a grand city

Aspiration in the dense mist. 

The black whale deep in the ocean, 

The sea-star that waves have taken

Long overcome by dust.

Our disillusion eroded by them.

About Ann Huang