Traces
Isaan, the vast rice-growing plateau in north-east Thailand
Endless paddies
stencil the land, enmesh the living.
Their waters smudge
a setting sun’s inks. A hand
has wiped leftover pigments
on a cloth of sky.
A motorcycle
scratches the land
for epidermic dust, guessing
a low track, up to
a corrugated iron scar
of an outbuilding. What
pinprick of space is yours here?
The same as an old lady’s,
squatting at a roadside. Your
boyhood world globe was a skin
encircling a lamp, which you spun
for all your tales to come. Now
you recall the rare times when,
dauntless, half-aware,
you tattooed the ready earth.