Dawn sun lights the cliffs of Yeliu
Reflecting rays dart to and fro
While ocean waves churn blue and green
A crane stops to drink in the scene
Out along the beachfront I walk
Without the least desire to talk
Winds stir currents tagging my toes
As I skip among with the flows
School children come to march and play
Joyful steps make bridge creak and sway
The old dockman readies his boat
For couples to paddle and float
A dweller gets air at a sill
Dressed warmly against the morning’s chill
“Hot soy milk” is the vendor’s yell
Passers-by rush at him pell-mell
Below the cliff to the tea shops
That is where my winding stroll stops
Into the green tea leaves I peer
Revealing whether hope ends here.
© 1976, Kenneth Koziol. All rights reserved.
