Yesterday’s Newspaper

Like a small leaf
Rolling along
From curb to curb
Beside or behind
Each running wheel
You have become
Heavy, even heavier
Than the headline
Of the front page

Once the wind stops, you
Will get stuck right here
Among all the forlorn
Pieces of history

* * *

Your Song

To sing a single song well, hopefully as
Aloud as a pacific whale, whose call can
Reach far beyond a continent, you have used
All the strengths of your life, but tone-deaf
And never able to carry a tune, you sound
Like an old donkey that has lost its voice
So prosaic and, indeed, so monotonous
No human ears would turn to you; even if
Your throat gets choked with blood, there
Is no echo from the heart of the valley

* * *

Yuan Changming grew up in rural China, started to learn English at 19 and published several monographs on translation before moving to Canada. Currently tutoring and co-editing Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan in Vancouver, Changming has poetry appearing in 1019 literary publications across 32 countries, including Best Canadian Poetry, Best New Poems Online and Threepenny Review.