Mountain Village Day Poem by Hytower Wang

Mountain Village Day
Hytower 2016

A few dogs around a crying baby of two full years old
Who made a land art by making a poo poo
Were accompanied by flies to point at this and that.
A few tall reached out trunks thickly covered with branches and leaves
To save the pedestrians who were drowned and swam hard up and down in the scorching sun
And lead them under the tree shade.
A few mountains having a chat and smoking pipes of mist
Smiled at the brook who carried all luggage on his back to run away in a fit of pique
Pulled out mouths of smoke rings to welcome him back.
A few clouds stopped gambling, the last time he swore never being the nine hundred and ninety ninth time.
Now, let's just have a bet on the heart of the cooking stove. Win or lose. All depends on
Which house's smoke flies the farthest.