"What I gathered gathered me; What the year keeps, keeps me."
- Poet
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The pears were heavy noon warmed the gongshi light withdrew into white I gathered laid each in straw grain turned through my palm as it had turned through other palms melons, round a white orchid by the gate one flower open the bees already gone dew gathered the Fire Star slipped westward clothes stirred on the line hands gathered the cloth wild geese crossed above the roofs their call thinned southward the moon rose whole a jade plate in the dark one circle two distances Chang'e entered the moon and earth fell from her the Jade Rabbit ground its white mortar the osmanthus stood before Wu Gang he cut it grew he cut again it grew again beneath the eaves a knife lay edge bright handle dark with wear— cut the last stem the stem yielded sound grain to the jar hollow grain to the earth the White Tiger rose in the west chrysanthemums kept their yellow low among the thinning stalks I reached stopped the jars stood full in the dark leaves descended insects entered the soil cold gathered at the ribs the year grew old in my hands by morning frost had entered the pear frost on the pear frost on the palm Wu Gang cuts the Jade Rabbit grinds moon returned the light drifted west
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