Iron Nails

From Still Life, Three Worlds by Dai Pan (潘岱). Poem 05.

The neighborhood, digital elevators emerging from the ground,
Trees jutting at angles, green palms nestled between buildings,
Crevices overflowing with moss and unnamed grasses.

People resting on long chairs under the trees,
In shirts, shorts, cloth shoes, skin partially exposed.
Yellow, green, blue, oval shapes, light spots dancing,
Their forms shift with the pupils in the sunlight.

On the cracked stone path, two iron nails stick out.
The trees, visitors, homes, hills, urban landscape —
Upon close inspection, blur into the background.

This place they call Little New York, people say,
Every city has one, I know, with triangular peaks and tall buildings.
Children running in the plaza, sunset clinging to glass walls,
I peek out from under a tree, drawing back my sight, far away.

Cite as: Dai Pan, "Iron Nails," Three Worlds, Still Life, poem 05, 2025. https://daipan.ink/still-life/iron-nails

Still Life 05

Iron Nails

The neighborhood, digital elevators emerging // from the ground,
Trees jutting at angles, // green palms nestled between buildings,
Crevices overflowing with moss and unnamed grasses.

People resting on long // chairs under the trees,
In shirts, shorts, cloth shoes, // skin partially exposed.
Yellow, green, blue, // oval shapes, light spots dancing,
Their forms shift // with the pupils in the sunlight.

On the cracked stone path, // two iron nails stick out.
The trees, visitors, // homes, hills, urban landscape —
Upon close inspection, // blur into the background.

This place they call Little New York, // people say,
Every city has one, // I know, with triangular peaks and tall buildings.
Children running in the plaza, // sunset clinging to glass walls,
I peek out from under a tree, // drawing back my sight, far away.