by William Marr
even the shadows
are dried to the bone
their whiskers sparse and brownish
with no dewdrops to moisten their throats
birds won't come to the window
to chirp
to waken dreams
to inspire
holding a dried-up pen
a poet stares at the blank sky
where not a single trace of cloud
is in sight
don't expect
tears of joy
anytime soon
William Marr, a Chinese American scientist/poet/artist, has published over 30 collections of poetry and several translations. His poetry has been translated into more than ten languages and is included in high school and college textbooks in Taiwan, China Mainland, England, and Germany. A former president of the Illinois State Poetry Society, he now lives in Chicago.
