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It's another year of Thanksgiving. Every year, we are thankful for the existence of poetry. In the face of all the tearing, clutter, and uncertainty, it is poetry that makes us realize that we are still under the same sky and enjoy the same vision. That is why "we cry out for poetry, steer the boat of poetry, and set sail for everyone."

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Nov, 2023, giclée

Phoenix, what do you look like?

Some say she looks like spring

In spring, we were at the junction of the lake and the fish.

Sheep herding, whistling, listening to the peach blossoms falling.

The other side of the sea is still the sea

We learned to embrace each other like wanderers and vagabonds

She slides to the bottom of the lake like a steep fish

There are no flowers in the pots by the lake

She hides herself in

In a secret

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Nov, 2023, giclée

Feng Feng, have you ever heard the words of spring

Her words

Floating in the strawberry jam-flavored morning class

Attached to the cracks in the wings of butterflies that land in poetry books

Do you see the sleeping petunias

The sleeping petunia in my grandfather's garden?

Spring has sent it a dream.

"like water flowing quietly into a stream.

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July, 2023, giclée

Feng Feng, I'm writing to you

I'm writing to the whole world.

The cherry blossoms have fallen from some trees.

The ground is littered with fragments of stars.

Have you ever glimpsed the secrets of spring?

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Nov, 2023, giclée

Why do the roots of seeds grow underground?

I have never understood the sorrows of the tree.

Aphids and books are the AB side of the journey.

I think, I write letters, I read books that don't matter.

But then I turn my head and see the tree outside my window, in the clear sky.

Collapsed with a bang

It was covered in leaves

Like an elephant on my face.

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Nov, 2023, giclée

Feng Feng, I'm asking you

When are you coming back

My poem

It has consumed the last bit of fiery red sun at the end of summer

Everything has become burnt and brittle

The last leaves have been ground into powder, gasping for breath as they tumble along the road.

Lanterns hang in the sky

And the cornstalks at night have streams of light rolling through them.

Did the streams of light ever put on your earrings?

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July, 2023, giclée

Dancing with Horses. The horse's hooves passed through the golden clouds

Stomping up black smoke

Covering the world with excess

Torches cast our shadows on cave walls, waves rushing in

In clouds of water and fire

A butterfly submerged in the depths of the sea

A myriad of people

Reaching the home of the stars

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