How public –
those concrete paths –
punctuated with rows of metal
doors – potted plants –
pink trousers and under
garments – Don’t tell!
drying in shifting shards –
of sunlight.

I was Nobody! Invisible
as an aroma unnamed –
Fish sauce? A steaming
pot of rice? A plump duck
sizzling in hot oil?

Somebody! Anybody!
to the thundering typhoon –
of Mandarin around me –
I roared. ‘Twould have been wiser –
to wander that dreary grid –
the livelong June – as a pair –
than one hour –
alone as a Frog.

12 thoughts on “Poet Emily Dickinson Reflects on the Lanes and Alleys of Taipei

    • ED is easy to love, WG, and also to imagine her getting lost in the swirling city of Taipei. It’s very cool that you memorized this signature poem…for me it was WS’s Sonnet 18. It’s engraved on my heart. Thanks for stopping by these woods.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Smart writing—love the pieces of it–how they got revealed to me through repeated readings, helped along i was by the wondrous image—stirred the pot of perceptions–the human stew–at home and abroad. Tantalizing language as always–the playful voice juxtaposed with the maestra’s classic verse a cosmic thread you’ve seamlessly layered in.

    Liked by 1 person

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