A little hair of the dog? We can’t just come off of National Poetry Month cold turkey, and thanks to Chris, we don’t have to.

A NIGHT MOORING NEAR MAPLE BRIDGE

While I watch the moon go down, a crow caws through the frost;

Under the shadows of the maple-trees a fisherman moves with his torch;

And I hear, from beyond Su-chou, from the temple on Cold Mountain,

Ringing for me, here in my boat, the midnight bell.

-Chang Chi (Witter Bynner trans.)