Homecoming After Self-Exile
Andrew Brown


From the distant valley, each day, the echo
of wood on axe and crashing timber

has been the subject of my morning poem.
Until I could render this moment as well

as Master Tu Fu,
I planned to remain in isolation.

But I am tired after two years
of being apart from you.

Twice, now, the pond has frozen over.
Twice, the ice has cracked and thawed.
​
Only once has an old bird thanked me
for the pleasure my poems gave him.