[Author] Monk Cao
Authorized old people, anonymous children,
Someone who sneaked into the garden property.
Around the invisible dead load cycle,
The garden was redecorated and re-lit.
The carved dusk came from a distance,
Everything hanging in the air abandoned the mysterious conversation.
There is no pain in the garden at the moment,
The contact of light and shadow hangs over the sky.
For people who look at trees from the inside of the garden,
The oak tree is very close, with human warmth.
Palm leaves are now in white balance.
Who moved who? Who came and left? Who is it?
Like those quiet and undulating low mountains,
There is a new member in the garden, the gold of personal experience.