![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-lmkt1Lya-Tkwd1sBtm4QwmIMIOE9a88BE5loYwv2ulhhyphenhyphen75RSGopgfVZmTtX67skOXkdEAk_vutMirmupDMhFZAjgeEjz8fz9Ka3AkS2HlmVjZmCEVvQwhHi9g1WVPD-3FjiP7q7fE/s280/beef-congee.jpg)
the sound
the sound
of snow repeatedly
pressed
like a panini, with toasted
tracks left in the wake
of succulent
steps –
the thought
of grandma
finally being able
to afford
a new set of
teeth
at seventy-eight –
the look
on the new barber’s face
down in the
hole-in-the-wall
as he received
his one-hundred-percent
tip –
the bowl
of congee
waiting at the end
of the day, hot
with scallion
pearls and roasted
peanuts –
the magic
of you
stopping time on the train
tuesday morning
suspending the count-
down to tardiness
with a look
.
Yi-Ching Lin
Posted over on her site Yi's Bits on "Healthy Doses"
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