Tung-Hui Hu

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The Sunday Poem: Tung-Hui Hu

By |01.14.12|

 

 

 

 

Early Winter, After Sappho

 

Some say the air of
early winter moving through
windows. For some, black ships

coming towards the city
are the quietest sounds on earth.
But I say it is with whomever one loves.

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