Just a poem
I loved her
thousands of times
searching for
the soul of a poem
i loved her
devoutly
a village where
cherry blossoms spring from
i loved her
a stack of white sails
passing through twilight
across the fluted water
i was not afraid
of the cold river
thousands of pages turned
occasionally
from the corner of my eye
she was a bright scenery
suddenly
searching thousands of times in vain
it turned out
she’s just a poem
those shy dimples
where poetry is from.