Jiating Pavilion Poem by Bernard Henrie

When you said goodbye the angry moon sent rain
to bead on the noodle shop window.

A girlfriend combed my wet hair.

The poor apprentice makes no offer and the wind
fails to brush my cheek or ruffle my hem as a lover
might do. Leaves fall to the factory floor.
I am without work and not even the well clothed
can afford to linger in the frost of Wuhan.

A night of nearly perfect cold opens over
Jiating pavilion, I believe the forces who create
this winter night cannot fail to answer my wish
and fill my heart