It's Still Life

This is a revised version.

Al’s Fresco Palace Restaurant in Hong Kong

From time to time, I’m still somewhere under
a China sun that staggers in midday heat.

I’m below a canvas shadow.
On a wrought iron chair.
Where pavements are gum-stuck; the air’s bruised.
This is not heaven, and
at times, it’s hardly earth,
but it’s alive, and the waiters wear white shirts
and greet you with a bow
as if inspecting shoes.
We lack a common language, so I point and smile.
I’m a routine — a bowl of noodles
in a broth to cool this peppery heat.

And from time to time this is where I return —
when the sun staggers in the midday heat.

Old Version

Al’s Fresco Palace Restaurant in Hong Kong

From time to time, I’m still somewhere under
a China sun that hangs stray in midday heat.

I’m below a canvas shadow.
On a wrought iron chair.
Where pavements are gum-stuck; the air’s bruised.
This is not heaven, and
at times, it’s hardly earth,
but it’s alive, and the waiters wear white shirts
and greet you with a bow
as if staring at their shoes.
We lack a common language, so I point and smile.
I’m a routine — A bowl of noodles
(long for luck and long life)
in a broth to cool this peppery heat.

And from time to time this is where I return —
when the sun hangs stray in the midday heat.

written for Miz Quickly Day 27: A favourite restaurant. Sometimes I still crave a bowl of Al’s noodle soup.