I'd like to think
that we were kindreds--
that woman who smiled
under the mimosa tree.
Her face, the shadow
of her umbrella.
I smell the Thai restaurant,
though I remembered it
to be a block further,
the sweet and sour ginger
is unmistakable.
It will be long going
home tonight--
everything's displaced.

06/24/2008

Posted on 06/24/2008
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