Clothing
All creatures are naked
Except humans
And humans only
Wearing glass fiber
If not polyester
Silk
If not flax
Furs
If not fig leaves
Themselves always clad
By shade, by shame
The clothing species
Never showing their naked selfhoods
Ever since that first bite at an unripe apple
Springscape
As the morning fog
Stalks away on its fluffy feet
All boughs
Unanimously agree
To take action
By bursting themselves
With dripping green buds
Little dimples
In myriads
Across the widely smiling face
Of spring
CHANGMING YUAN, twice Pushcart nominee and author of Chansons of a Chinaman, who grew up in rural China and authored several books before moving to Canada, currently teaches writing in Vancouver and has had poetry appearing in Barrow Street, Best Canadian Poetry, London Magazine and 250 other literary publications worldwide.
