Panda Food

After saying goodbye to the rosy cherry blossoms, I began to notice the bamboo forests. From afar, they sit lightly against the distant mountains, like snow on a tree, as if a gentle breeze would easily deroot them and send them floating. They tiny paintbrush-tip leaves don"t flutter, but ripple in lovely waves. Sun shines dully through their hollow trunk, green glowing bars of forests topped with feathery pompoms. They never cease growing, so they bend and creak, only audible in profusely planted yet empty forests. The small stilted temples tucked amongst the panda food wouldn't seem appropriate anywhere else. The narrow pointed laves cover the ground, concealing new sprouts like elegant emerald swipes from a calligraphy paintbrush.