The Poetry of Joseph Zaccardi

LI BAI RETURNS TO JADE MOUNTAIN

I saw a tiger dozing in a hammock swagged between two ginkgos.
I saw a recluse sleeping on a lichen and moss covered stone.

I heard about a flock of geese that mistook rocks for an estuary
As dusk flared and faltered and distant peaks flamed.

I dreamed about a seabird searching for food and land;
I chanted a poem about a sailor and the glint on his battened sail.

I heard bells sound over a barren field and saw frost thicken
On a horse’s mane before melting into a five-petal flower.

I walked on planed planks of a footbridge over a shoal of carp
While cicadas chirped in overhanging wild plums and willows.

I read stories about the ancient capital in the state of Chin
Where a rock was said to have advised its king.

I heard of a golden pheasant so enamored with his image
In a bronze mirror that he danced on and on until he died.

While I stopped to pick up fallen horse chestnuts, I saw a widow
Uproot brambles and weeds to plant yellow seeds of yarrow.

–– from California Quarterly

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