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.