The Smoker Poem by Dongming Zhou

The Smoker

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She is thinking
when she is sitting on
a bench
an old bench on the lawn

The yellow leaf falling down slowly
piece by piece
The pigeons slide off quietly sometimes
The wind was frozen suddenly
when it slipped though her fingers
A beam of light penetrates the woods
brighten everything on the ground
She reclines her posture
Left a long shadow in the sunshine

She’s never looked around
Her eyes look through
the blue sky between the high buildings
None can touch her mind
She is not there actually
Her brain and she are
smoking

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