Nantahala Forest

by Xiaoqiu Qiu

Nantahala Forest

pillowing on a log in the forest 
above    the swaying sky between gingkos 
swirls down    float 
     by   float     
              last time  I looked 
at the sky  this way, I was with an old friend 
under a bodhi tree near a lake in Fuzhou city    he told me 
the last time he looked this way, he was six, on a haystack
surrounded by dirt splattered oxen.
somehow between these two strikes of clocks 
marked an eon 
so much happened 
before our hearts once more become settled and hear 
the wind outside      of itself. 
the sun grazes my nose     every other second
   I see branches entangle 
           the leaves    entangle 
                the cicada wings   entangle 
                       bird feathers    everything 
   is an intersection, and memories—
only when you re-member them, starts to stir 
and whirl, and   沙(sha)  沙(sha),    沙(sha)  沙(sha)
like wind-branches, making knots 
                             after knots
                      that cannot 
                unlock. in the quiet 
of the eye, in the limits of your
inner void, you see between sounds,  
holding still, 
light.

Xiaoqiu is a poet, novelist and translator from Shanghai. His work has been published in Los Angeles Review, Meridian, Lunch Ticket, Reed Magazine, and more. His poetry has won the 2023 Editor’s Choice Award at Meridian, a finalist at Goldilocks Award at Sunspot lit, and semifinalist for the Cutbank chapbook prize. He is an editor at Interim magazine. Currently, he is a Black Mountain Institute Fellow and a PhD student of Creative Writing at UNLV.