George Bishop Haydoc walks on the road in Shengsi Island. [Photo/zj.zjol.com] 

Bianjiao Color

(by George Bishop Haydoc) 

In the morning,

before first light,

I wound my way

up the mountain pass,

gray, through cold blue fog.

The cliffs grew wet

green, and I shivered.

But I followed the brightening

sky and came to a clearing

at the top and found

below me warmth, a

village, descending along

a cove's inner shore.

The roofs and walls

matched the colors

of the sun rising

over the eastern sea.

I trickled down the

stairs that flowed

among homes, and I

too became yellow,

orange, blush gold;

I too glowed in waking

day, and the village

became my home.