Night On the River
Floating, floating, as the river wind,
sweeps a chorus of autumn twigs.
Embarking in the early eve,
I steer a light craft.
Rising, the moon rotates,
along the mountain peaks.
Flowing, the waters follow the whirling sky.
Are we on the Milky Way?
Or, roving in a grove of fine clouds.
Copyright © Dorothy Yuan | Year Posted 2016
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