silhouette of sails breezed through the twilight hour,
the working man was long aroused from his sleep,
long strips of inked paper billowed out into the dank alley,
infused with the rotten aroma of yesterday.
the paper-thin veil draped over the construction site,
the working men had their silhouettes enslaved to the sheet,
an arrow of shadow shot through the muted screen of the cinema,
a line of laundry zigzagged the sky overhead, ******* pages of blue,
the rickshaw man was crossing stairs,
toeing winding train tracks, children nimbly dashed past danger
a fisherman was dreaming of secret deluges,
he would oar his way through the overflown streets, catching a dim sum box or two
a seagull fixed its hungry gaze on you, chewing stick
you leaned on the cart you have been pushing, facing habour
this was inspired by a photography collection— Hong Kong Yesterday by Fan **, which I came across a few weeks ago in the bookstore. His works leave a strong, lasting impression on me, and thus was this poem born.
