Like a Qilin’s Feathers
The childishness of Chinese girls and boys
Is lighter than their hair or eyes, as light
As silk in poems, lighter than their toys
Like kites uplifted by a breeze, their flight
On April gusts. The Chinese children’s dreams
Are light as cherry blossom white and pink,
Or thinner even, lighter than the beams
Of sunlight or their first grade teacher’s wink.
The boys don’t dream of swords, not yet, or if
They do, the daydreams are as pale as love
That children know from slightest flowery whiff
On blossom-viewing air from limbs above.
The daydreams of the girls are paler yet,
Much paler than a fairytale-ish threat.
~ Phillip Whidden