One Morning

Anjali Tsui

--for Xia, going to Tibet alone

One morning,
One yawning and tired morning,
I imagined
that between you
and the high plateau,
the sky must be
unthinkably deep
and far. Lacking
wind, cloud or fog
the translucent blue
perplexes.

When you left,
I was calm.
But when I could no longer see your shadow
the longing for my beloved grew up

and another person wanders and wanders through the lines
in a very small palm of a child
meandering through my body
looking for the only word.

Words don't need wings
They wheel around
Guiding the spirit like a scent in the air
The morning rays fumble
Like the new shoes you bought
for this long-distance trip.

Fluttered open, this time
has allowed my dreams
to be pregnant but not married.
Sealed with snow,

the peaks snatch
the mist you exhale.

7/14/1993