Two Seasons in Laoland
Dry
Fields are brown
where they have not been blackened by fires red in the night choking the sky with ash that does not fall so much as float drifting down in bits like night's inchworms. Even the sun looks burnt setting orange too soon through the molten air |
Rainy
Flooded fields
reflecting green reflecting green tender rice and hillsides feathered with bamboo. Clouds wander in companies or lazily rest mist cloaking mountain kingdoms where imagination rises like a river |