This Moment
(After Eavan Boland)
by Aiden Heung
An imaginary tree,
green as spring.
Children’s voices
scud like birds
out of a cage, hurrying
into parchment clouds.
The day ends
before it begins
to make sense.
But still,
I stand in front
of my shutters
that barre-striped
a red-roofed
neighborhood.
Might be stars later.
Silence creeps.
I’m not ready
to make amends.
Aiden Heung (He/They) is a Chinese poet born in a Tibetan Autonomous Town, currently living in Shanghai. He is a Tongji University graduate. His poems written in English have appeared in The Australian Poetry Journal, The Missouri Review, Orison Anthology, Parentheses, Crazyhorse, Poet Lore among other places. He also translates poetry from Chinese to English, his translations were recently published in Columbia Journal and Cordite Poetry Review. He can be found on Twitter @aidenheung.