17 December, 2014

Chinese, X

swing low
sweet chariot, coming forth
to carry me home

home from China
I can smell grass cuttings
and blue sky

1 comment:

Hobbes said...

There really is No Place Like Home. The aeroplane waiting for me is like Hermes himself. I can almost hear clarions. Through the muddy window of Beijing Capital Airport, my Boeing shines like an Olympian. Rugby tunes circle in my mind. The flight home is fine indeed.