The high walls I cannot scale
( with apologies to Tu Fu )
Desolate in my Chinatown morning,
among the scraps and people sleeping in urine
doorways, I ache from the politics of the heart.
Pigeons flock together in Hing Hay Park,
no children to greet them.
I walk for my sanity, since alone in my room
before dawn, the mind constructs improbable things.
The city is humming for profits
and I wait for the porridge place to open.
A bowl of sampan porridge
adorned with a clump of watercress.
These Chinese and I are one, scattered
in the four corners of the globe.
I only have enough to pay for one bowl
and so sorry, my friend, I must dine alone.
Koon Woon
2012 18th Ave. South
Seattle, WA 98144-4324
August 5, 2005
(206) 329 - 5566
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