Sonnet: Hoi An
Laura Brasher
A summer swelter suffocates the air—
worn stagnant window shutters crave a breeze.
The locals sell pearl trinkets in the glare
and take shelter under green banyan trees.
The Thu Bon river winds languid and slow
beneath the creaky wooden ancient bridge.
Hot workers in pointed bamboo hats glow,
toiling in rice paddies beyond the ridge.
Delicate chopsticks carefully select
plump shrimp dumplings and morning glory greens.
At coral dusk, lit-globe lanterns bedeck
narrow streets and illuminate the scenes.
Hoi An your ageless beauty’s a reprieve
from modern life—I never want to leave.
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