Know What You Want to Talk About and Then Write About Something Else

All should be transformed into a source of wisdom and compassionate living.
—Taitetsu Unno, “Number One Fool” (
Tricycle, Spring 2008)

Sometimes at night we stroll and
we do not know where the perfume
comes from, but tonight I have found

from across the deep orchard a hedge
outside the wire fence where the wild rose
is ferocious in its pink blossoming. Its

headstrong bouquet is more gong than harp.
I would know it anywhere.
I try to be still. Try to be alone,

and my heart clangs like a bell.
I try to fall away. I try to disappear.
I try to hurl my discontent into the cloudy river.

And the river says What? to me.
And I do not know what. Don’t understand why.
Confused about how as well.

And I follow my nose to the next
rise of wild roses, stand beside them
and breathe. Every breath, I need to fight for

tonight. Nothing comes easily.

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