The Sound

the sound

the sound
of snow repeatedly
pressed
like a panini, with toasted
tracks left in the wake
of succulent
steps –

the thought
of grandma
finally being able
to afford
a new set of
teeth
at seventy-eight –

the look
on the new barber’s face
down in the
hole-in-the-wall
as he received
his one-hundred-percent
tip –

the bowl
of congee
waiting at the end
of the day, hot
with scallion
pearls and roasted
peanuts –

the magic
of you
stopping time on the train
tuesday morning
suspending the count-
down to tardiness
with a look
.

Yi-Ching Lin

Posted over on her site Yi's Bits on "Healthy Doses"