Ten Cherita by ai li

old woman at the door

collecting for
hungry ghosts

the shroud
she wears
for shawl


black limo on a wet day

the empty florist

on stone


christmas eve…

the presents wrapped
a cup of camomile tea

anonymous call
your eyes
avoiding mine


a passing phase…

the drawers full
of lingerie

he orders
by phone
asking for black lace


tiara in a pawn shop

the missing ticket
with the sacked companion

autumn dusk
she sits in a ballgown
fraying at the hem


the hush in a library

a fly
on the woman’s nose

to sneeze
or not
to sneeze


gemstone on her fat finger

the colour of
dark ocean

her face
in the obituary column
lost at sea


4 pm

a cuckoo clock
bringing forest into afternoon

the crumbs i leave
sitting on
their own shadows


missing child on a sunday morning

the priest
finds a clean frock to visit in

shadowed path
the broken doll
no one sees


another rainbow

this one is quiet
for the hospice

the face
at the window
already not there

© 2002 by ai li


%d bloggers like this: