Poetry

Rain on banana leaves

I built a shed on a hill 
about the size of Thoreau’s. 

Nearby, I planted a grove 
of banana trees, lady’s fingers. 

When they’re grown 
and the broken heart of Autumn 

brings the heavy rains, 
I’ll shelter inside my shed

and listen for the patter of rain 
on banana leaves. 

I make a promise, Chu Shu, 
to think of you then

and share together 
our ten thousand pains.  

Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s