The leaf hangs, trembling, from a high branch.
Then drops, tantalising.
Onto waters calm as a court lady's silk.
And sends forth ripples soaring
A bird on its maiden flight.
I walk beside a river at evening
My steps slow and calm.
I see a spirit in the water
Whispering of palatial domes and golden conch shells.
But it could be
Merely shadows playing with the wind-tossed reeds.
Copyright 1999 Amis Lee