POEM

 

Sometimes, when the timing is right

The taho man passes by my gate

Just as I am outside

Sweeping yesterday’s dead leaves away.

 

Sometimes, when he passes by my gate

I have enough coins to buy a cup

Left in the living room.

 

Otherwise, I would miss the chance to dash out to the street.

By then he would be gone.

 

When I do catch him

I am happy.

 

The taho is always slightly warm—

Soft, syrupy, sweetness

Trickling down your throat

Sweet warmth in the belly.

 

When I do catch him.

He too is happy.

 

He chats a bit as he makes a cup

Mixes syrup, tofu, and sago pearls

He smiles and is thankful–

For customer during these lean times

 

But on mornings like this,

It is I who is thankful

Thankful for making someone happy.

 

Maybe that is what moments of happiness are all about.