And Don’t Come Back

Sad clouds drift scents like those pearls
Of the late Tang poems—moss-grey

Dreams you could not have seen sink
As mere rain dropped from real skies,

But still close to the felt smell
Of soil once a few drops land.

Xu Fu went to find the isles
Where no one died. He did not

Come back. It could mean he died.
It could mean he reached the isles.

It could mean both of those things.
I wish these high, blue-white clouds

Could be sad like that, turn grey
As moss and wet the dry stones

To cool the day, free the scent
From this dirt, let Xu Fu flee.