December

by Yonghong Gu

In coldness —
A thin pink veil
On her orange fingers,
The cloud
Flows against the sky

That short tree —

At the edge of an empty
Playground,
A soccer net

Its strong leg holds the ground

Obliquely, standing

Several branches reach
Toward the sky —
As if shouting
Like an old man:

I am old, but I am hard!