A Garden's Bones and Cow Count

A Garden’s Bones


Bone.
Bones shoot from the earth—
a three-pronged fork.
Hard and pale white stumps—
jetties on green sea.
Bones;
a sturdy skeleton buried in tufts of winter grass
hacked and sawed by the woman upstairs—
one less to water, feed or tend
a Death
a Blessing.
A curious sculpture these bones
kicked by a tiny boy
ringed by dirt and dried feces
for the gods to chew
for the winds to gnaw
a brittle snap
a slow decay.
Bones are phantoms spit from the glory of summer’s bush.
At night my son cries: shadows, ghosts.
Does he mean these bones?
Weeks pass
nubs give way to stems and curved leaves.
Feel the baby’s temple, the barely-hard skull
damp with the terror of light.


A Garden's Bones was published in the journal IMPRINT (2011) (p. 81) a few weeks ago. IMPRINT is now available in local HK bookstores.

I have previously posted this poem on this blog. It's also on my website www.stephaniehan.com


Mui Wo Cows


On Sunday we counted a line of 12 cows for the herd as they walked up the path by our house. Make Way for the Bovine... it was quite a vision---12 cows nicely marching up in a single line. We saw the little calf, the one the bull was guarding a few weeks ago, it was the one that started to trot near Keohi and myself. (Keohi and I bolted up the path with Keohi yelling "I'm afraid of the cow! I'm afraid of the cow!") The ole bull had blocked the entrance to our house for a bit, couldn't go in--a few females in the garden area.

But this is life with cattle. Not a big deal. The image of them marching up the stone path to the mountains is one that will always stay with me. An old local man was chatting and smiling and laughing at the picture. Clearly, good feelings were engendered by the animals.

People need to mellow out about the bovine. MOOOOOOOOOOO....

Saw a snake hiking last week. Small one, slithering across the path. I didn't react that strongly. I've been in Mui Wo nearly three years...snakes, water buffalo, torpedo diving mosquitoes. Village life...