Remembering

How you bowed
to the new moon
of every month

Morning brings
the smell of rain
and incense burning

Traveler’s palm
waves at 
the top of the hill

Each spring
we returned to the city
where you were born

What happened
to the pocket watch
from another century

And what became of
the penknife used
to sharpen the pencils

The trees you 
first planted
are all gone now

Reading by
the glowworm light
of a kerosene lamp

The north side of the house
stays cool while the south side
burns with the sun

Not content to love
the singing thrush you
call it by another name

The dogs are silent 
even though
the moon is full

Remembering
when we 
were one