Green-Striped Melons

They lie
under stars in a field.
They lie under rain in a field.
Under sun.

Some people
are like this as well—
like a painting
hidden beneath another painting.

An unexpected weight
the sign of their ripeness.

Bamboo

What exists wants to persist.
Even the knock of bamboo on bamboo
spilled outward continues.
And you who have lived—restless, ambitious, aggrieved.
Who have answered to Walter, to Shirley, to Tim.
To Carlos, to Teisha, to Haavo.
Do not think it unchanged, this world you are leaving.

Copyright © 2009 Jane Hirshfield All rights reserved
from Poetry Kanto
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission