She peers out the window into the
night, under the rays of the moon.
From somewhere the words appear: bamboo moon.

She climbs through the large
opening of a bamboo shoot,
crawls up and up,

guided
by the moon;
light filters in.
Dark womb,
she feels a swaying
motion through her limbs,
a lake in sight, midnight blue
stretched across years. When
she reaches the end of the bamboo
she pauses at the
opening,

sitting on her knees, gazing
up at her reflection in the lake—
bamboo moon.