Yulan

I do it every morning,
Right before I take the turn.
Right before I remain impervious
To the woman's squeeze through
Difficult lanes

To the back of the line
And back. A careful stroll by
Mechanical lines. In the morning
Of smoke and lead
The cars come to form an impasse.

The woman's balanced wheeze
Against the motoring grunt—
Unimposing, but surely sufficient
Enough as a charm.

She escapes from the backdrop,
Stage left of the rear view mirror.
I compose and churn

A trying notion inside out.
A practised routine, no doubt—
Perpetual revelation.
The solid yellow line remains
Parallel to the windows

As the flowers, the white clouds
Bloom unaffected from the drop of
Her hand.

Dale Chou
2012-11-06