Home
I go home with those birds
that have left the nest.
I am comforted by the hands of trees.
The tree with surface roots looks
like a woman sitting on the floor
with one leg folded.
She is a wise elder. Before the rain
her tears built the shelters for the migrants.
She speaks in a language we cannot
understand. Her hands warn us of dream
time and the harm we might encounter
when awake. Our migrant eyes
follow the birds that leave their nests.
How do they fly and we cannot swim? ___ Yellow Moon
We are climbing the Racial Mountain.
How do we keep from falling?
It is important to be familiar
with the botany of the mountain.
It’s also important to see
the mountain from a distance.
Too much is hidden behind
slow walking clouds.
Wang Wei saw shadows
hide in green moss
yet the sun shines again.
A monk gave the poet
new sandals for his journey.
The yellow moon fell in love
with the green moss.
___ Afternoon Sun Right now, in the last hour of the afternoon sun.
I want to remember everything.
Keep recalling every footstep so we will thread them together like colorful beads.
Red, green, yellow, orange, brown
purple and blue.
Berries, olive wood, pearls, glass,
sandalwood, stones, and shells.
In the last hour of the afternoon sun.
___
6/26/2024
Twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Miho Kinnas is a writer, translator, and poet. She is the author of Waiting for Sunset to Bury Red Camellias (Free Verse Press, 2023). She co-authored We Eclipse into the Other Side with E. Ethelbert Miller, published by Pinyon Publishing in 2023.
E. Ethelbert Miller is a writer and literary activist. He is the author of several books of poetry and two memoirs. He hosts a weekly radio program, On the Margin (WPFW). A bilingual book of haiku in English and Hebrew, the little book of e, is forthcoming in September 2024.
