Migu's Coffee Cafe
Just by Xinhua's Book Shop
Is a place I know well
A place to be seen for the ****
To loose yourself in a dream
When you leave your native road

Through the window I can see the faded
yellow paint of the buildings.
They are always darker in winter.
They remind me of leaves falling
on a cold Manchester Autumn morning.
Full of parting  and lingering pain.
Holding on to the last days of summer.

Now I see your face
In a nest broken by angry voices
Too afraid to tread on the flowers
I could not help you.

A life at 22 always looks different at 52 even in Taiyuan.
We once talked of babies and forever
Now I focus on the pain
The only thing that is real.