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



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.