My friend Joe
Kaau, kaau, the morning crow,
broke the dream of I and Joe.
Had she been here you annoying thing,
The slingshots never failed. Oh my forever Joe.
Joe was twelve living with her granny,
I was seven, timid like a mitten.
Watched Joe sewing, gardening, cooking at home,
And attending school clean and tidy, fresh as my memory.
Joe used to take me to the streams,
and block them up with mud and empty the waters.
Crayfish, clams, eel, loach and all sorts of fish,
weighed up in our net and buckets, heavier those days.
Under moonlight we played hide and seek,
thatch roof, clay wall, narrow lanes and ghost tale.
I fell asleep behind maize stalk.
Joe was running and calling for me, everyone else left
Now for her I seek, day and night.
A flower whose name unknown,
beaming beautifully in a fairylike garden,
flew a pink petal by my pen.
I was about to write Joe in the dream, of a forever maiden.
Her parents away in coal pits.
Posted Jo books and scented soaps.
soap package was cut slim and straight,
Joe copied on them poetry lines, bookmarks for me scented.
Presently Joe took me to the pond，
when other swimmers left,
The vicious weed pulling my feet took her instead
Joe saved me with the last strength, Lunch time in the pond.
Kaau,kaau, the morning crow,
Still calling at my window.
How I missed Joe
would he know, would she know.