I write fiction, short stories, and poems. Here is selected work.
The Tragedy of Nathaniel Darewell (Novella)
卜算子·思续
朝日望人来，垂暮哀人去。
虽看时逝似骡驴，乍知已匆遽。
遽然回头瞰，只见浑蒙叙，
待到花芳透故里，重返再相聚。
A Parakeet's Letter
When I was young, my breath would softly sigh
How weak is my pounding heart,
I long to soar, to spread my wings and fly.
I then grew up, I no longer complied,
I soar around the boy, and on his shoulder I land, depart,
But eventually, my breath would softly sigh.
One day, my wings grew weak, I knew not why.
The boy embraced my cold, despairing heart
I yearn to prove my youth, and yet I can only yearn, for I can no longer fly.
Did I forget to feed, to water? He cries.
No, friend, not once did I thirst or starve,
It's my tired lung, from which my breath sighs.
You will lose me and I will lose you, thus is life.
For you, fate is still afar.
For me, I will rest, before I fly.
Let me close my eyes,
And venture beyond your cabin, oh wooden heart—
See me glide through the trees, beyond the starry sky!
Let me go, let me fly.
Ginkgo
Among the sea of leaves,
There stands a Ginkgo tree.
One lobe, lush and green,
Quaffing moist rain,
Breathing beams of Sun.
The other lobe, barren and yellow,
Crinkling under age's yoke,
Drained of youthful gifts.
Half of the lobe slowly hardens
The other half verdantly grows,
It stretches far and high,
Resisting death.
Downtown Dallas
I wander inside a hollow city
Wrap in a stifling suit under the scorching Sun.
Sparse grass barely cradles the sidewalk trees
Streets echo empty. Cars glide soundlessly.
Turning a corner, I find another scene,
A huddle of quiet, dying figures
Drunk and drowsy, their vitality depletes.
Steering clear of their vacant gazes
I move through swiftly.
From the shadow,
A girl–
Black, barefoot, hand extends out to daylight.
I turn to see her unblemished palm
Almost touching mine.
Should I hold her,
To take her out of the shadow?
A moment of doubt
But it lasts too long
Long enough for them to drag her back
To shadow's deep,
Where spirits sleep.