Chiao Meng


From &Quot;Apricots Died Young&Quot; - Poem by Chiao Meng

Don't fondle these pearls.O hands of ice,
fondle pearls and they're quick to fly.

And don't cut spring short, sudden frost.
Cut spring short and that blaze of beauty's lost.

Still nipples, tiny blossoms fall in tatters
tinged pure as a child's robes long ago.

I gather them, never filling my hands,
and at dusk, grief empty, return home.


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Read poems about / on: spring, grief, child, beauty, lost, home, children



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2003



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