The snowflakes are drifting down
the sky is a mournful grey
Inside the homes
we knead and roll the soft glutinous flour balls
and drop them into steaming hot pots
waiting for them to rise to the surface of the bubbling water
The "tang yuen" are scooped out and gobbled with sweet gingery syrup
In the sweltering heat,why would I be waiting for spring to come?
The shimmering heat of asphalt pavements
the dried leaves cackles and crunches beneath my feet
yearning for the winter to return
