The first tree

to lose all its leaves and stand exposed to the hustling of others’s leaves,

the rustle of warmth as it waves its branches in


wind strong enough to chill but

not to let those fingers touch and feel its own existence –

But it will perhaps hold first the golden chandelier when the spring comes.

(Final work imported from A.Symmetric Space, a side project I have now rescinded.)


the Wind

When your earlobes do tingle with the frost of the wind

And your nose tip is swelling red, your fingers scorned thin

You know that the North Wind is making its dent

On the year’s natural calendar, despite your dissent


And yet, if the wind did not blow as it does

How high the cost would be to us!

This poem was inspired by none less than the wind itself as I was walking to the bus stop from school. (On that note – that’s why it’s always great to carry a notebook with you! I wrote this on the bus and finished it at home.) It’s  a cool eleven degrees outside, which is unusually cold for end-of-winter Hong Kong. Hopefully, the sun will soon return, complemented with the frequent relief of spring breezes and the occasional shower.

In line 4, ‘despite your dissent’ was originally ‘despite my dissent’, but I thought it would be weird to introduce me in the middle of the poem. But it doesn’t look too right now, either. Any suggestions?

I’m also thinking of changing ‘nose tip’ to something less blunt.

And rewriting the last line because it’s too direct.