Tammy Ho Lai-Ming
show me the communal snow-covered garden,
point to one of the dwarf wooden boxes—
where you keep your bicycle.
saddle retains your smell,
the rain you rode through,
the day before.
think of the oft-repeated story
two bed-bound patients in a terminal ward:
bed is next to the window,
other’s pushed against the wall.
could be a beautiful picture:
snowing. First proper snow in years,”
can see car wheels stitch marks on the snow.
a fox or two phantom around.”
other patient is jealous:
me more. Tell me more.”
cannot see so far; we can only see now.
is blocking some of the view.
teatime light, dark as night,
and I begin to reflect on the glass.