as if flesh and blood were unreal the cobbles try to trip me
the sun falls like rain making golden the town
a squashed pomegranate its seeds scattered on a yellow patch of light
the smell of time almost unbearable to the dead and to the living
an unescorted soap bubble ventures across the street bursts on a cat's whiskers
the cat black as black lives in its own private time independent of the world's
for a fleeting second as I pass by and appear in a reflection on a brass door ****
an old woman drowning in a shadow becomes a shadow
her violet eyes close time winds backwards to her first kiss
my shadow escapes leaving me all alone wondering who I am
a ghost's laughter time is nowhere to be seen
***
All the disconnected joined up in an emotional join-the-dots...what the mind in camera mode elects to notice...the happenstance of life...an emotional osmosis...culminating in the death of the lady with the "Elizabeth Taylor eyes." I had passed by her when she was alive and when I returned I heard people speak of her death...I didn't know her....but she was said to have been a great beauty in her youth and was much sought after and fought over. She had just eaten her rice congee with rousong and zha cai as she did everyday at the same time.