I dreamt half my life was spent

    in wonder， and never suspected.

    So immersed in the moment

    I forgot I was ever there.

    Red-tailed hawk¹ turning

    resistance into ecstasy².

    The patrolmen joking with the drunk

    whose butt³ seemed glued to the sidewalk.

    A coral quince blossom in winter，

    pink as a lover's present.

    And tilting⁴ my bamboo umbrella

    against the warm slant⁵

    of rain， was I not a happy peasant

    crossing the great bay on a bridge that began

    who knows when， and will end

    who knows when.