Li Po and Me

We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.  Li Po circa 760 A.D.

 

In the moonlight, we sat in silence
together, sipping summer alone
except for shadow selves
that crept beside our every move.

He would not talk to me,
…just said he told his secrets
only to the drunk
or those mad with moonlight.

I sat there musing
as plum blossoms
fell like feathers
through the air.

My shadow,
in unison with me,
raised it’s head
to watch them.

Li Po
kept quaffing wine,
a moon beam tangled
in his gray goatee,

I reached my hand
to touch it;
he told me all his secrets.
I must have been mad.

 

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