Wider

WIDER

For Jyl Smith-Cameron
2.8.53 to 10.24.11

Sunday morning in the dark,
Tsim Sha Tsui still sleeping,
seafood and laundry trucks weave and honk,
drivers leading
night time lives with
Guan Yin images on tea bottles,
adorning dash boards.
South China sea breeze
cools Kowloon alleys.
Weary hooker carries
regrets and a little cash from high rise hotel,
alone and longing for sleep, and the
comfort of her tiny apartment,
good work done for today.
Night captain pilots his
ship through the strait,
as he did a thousand years.
Central Hong Kong vibrates
on the far shore as we all go on.
Sea birds hover and dive,
unaware the Hang Seng percentage
loss and gain.
A whole life contained
in one death.
Alone on the street I
settle in an expanded world.
All of us born together, dying as one
becoming wider not longer.