Golden Hair Poem by Duy Bui

Summer has arrived, bright and golden like once before; golden above the weightless ticking of days and became moonlight beating upon dark water of the nights.
Her golden hair hung down, touched and cuddled the green blades of grass, and when those grasses passionately grew like wild weeds, they begin to block her sight, mind and were cut away.
Perhaps both of our consciousness mingled unconsciously in the hearts, but when consciousness advanced and conquered, all was sliced apart and split. Her words begin to stir the moments like early autumn leaves rushing a summer sun.

The name you learned and pronounced and remembered. The name which ignited countless dreams and endeavors; for so long, it was the only name in the unclosed world that existed. Your life’s novel will bear that name before its other luminous contents. It might even be the title where everything else weep through and grow from; that haunting name, the echo of an Angel.
Where in our hearts now can we measure what is love, if she was still here?

Am I still there, dancing among those untimely golden leaves, lightly skipping the summer air, or am I here where winter has long passed? My memories of the falling snow that came hastily soft then melted away, has slowly melted away.

Summer has arrived, bright and golden like once before; golden above the weightless ticking of days and became moonlight beating upon dark water of the nights.
Where in our tongues, our minds and our hearts will there be truth if not in our memories;
thin golden hair and green blades of grass, glimmering pebbles skipping sunlight. And we, our voices whispering upon the hushed summer breeze.