“Morning finds the shiuli fallen, white stars on wet earth. I pick one— its fragrance is a memory I cannot place. A child laughs nearby. The flower wilts in my palm. Everything beautiful has an expiry date. I learn this again and again” PoetryStarsNatureFlowerMemoryFragranceShiuliPoet S LifeWet Earth Book:A Handful of Shuilis Source: A Handful of Shuilis