Ge0rge Wu

My oldest friend,

so old and almost forgotten, golden memories like her gleaming leaves disconnecting, dying, decaying in the brown of the brush below. 

Looking from a plane, glowing

streets, like spiraling

spider webs

knitted on the elder plains,

out of hope, out of pride.

Crossings of the intertwined veins 

If the sky above you 

should turn dark and full of clouds

Paint your palette blue and grey

look out on a summer’s day

We all need somebody

When I was four I wished for five, 

When I’d be in Kindergarten

When I was five I wished that preschool would come back again

Again at six I wished to age

At seven I wished the same

Sometimes, 

they think the forests must have been constructed,

around the railroad. 

That the tracks were built up from Earth long ago,

And so there were three.

Three thoughts concerning snowflakes.