small town saxaphone
men in rain, thin and fine halos of hair,
they walk like brown trees, so spread apart.
the street looks like a big thick saxophone running by.
a line of light plays out along undulating roofs,
threads of rain fall upon children and dogs.
leaves and lamp on the wall silently burn.
i walk into this small town on the flatland,
a basket of chestnuts sits in town.
i walk to the door where human lips and the saxophone touch.
小镇的萨克斯
雨中的男人,有一圈细密的茸毛,
他们行走时像褐色的树,那么稀疏。
整条街道像粗大的萨克斯管伸过。
有一道光线沿着起伏的屋顶铺展,
雨丝落向孩子和狗。
树叶和墙壁上的灯无声地点燃。
我走进平原上的小镇,
镇上放着一篮栗子。
我走到人的唇与萨克斯相触的门。
Plume: Issue #72 July 2017