By Connie Xie
A forest thrives,
on the edge of the ocean,
fish fly through trees,
birds swim amongst the waves.
At dawn,
the trees brush out their leaves,
paint them with tails of the wind.
Give off the sweet fragrance of clouds.
Who would notice the fine details of how she’s broken?
Footprints of tree shadows, swim through soil.
Music from stolen bamboo- lull waves to sleep
on fallen stars.
Small thieves of life, we feast on her dreams.
