Hualing’s Garden in Iowa

Ágnes Gergely

1993

Wind bells over the river with an
Indian name: transplanted homelessness
disguised as a transplanted home.
The garden jingles. Odorous sandalwood censers,
kimonos and saris flashing well among
the trees cornered and rooted here, like
the ever alert deer antlers on the bank—
each particle of the sight is terror.
To reconstruct: to step barefooted…
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