Harlequin
A boulder opal held between two fingertips, a buried sea inside it.

《蛋白石》

一場雨下在一億年前
沒有人打傘,沒有人回家
它就地躺下,睡進石縫裡
今夜我把它取出來

放在燈下,它慢慢睜開眼睛
像一片被埋葬過的海

城市人,你看——
死去的水還在發光
而我們活著,卻常常暗下來

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Writing on opal, on craft, and on the ideas behind the work.

Read the poemJournal