The Land of Wind

Yun Wang

 

 

This is a land of spirits.

The wind spreads voices

grains of green sand on red desert.

 

Those whose land has been stolen

whisper prayers that hover, translating the wind

then rise into a receding cluster of stars.

The wind blows over their graveyard

unmarked, beneath a college town.

 

Thieves are heroes for their own

children, who pity the native poor

picking through their garbage.

They mow down black locust groves

to build identical houses.

 

The universe expands.

 

The cosmology professor dreams of

being elsewhere.

 

A spaceship.

 

View of a dim matrix of lights

each a beating heart and a needle of pain.

 

Copyright 2007 by the Tipton Poetry Journal.

All rights remain the exclusive property of the individual poet and may not be used without their permission.

 

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