Evening dress

End of the day

I ride the ricketty board to Waterloo

Narrowly beating the sunset home.

West of the bridge

The sky is peach

and pale blue

like a delicate qipao

with wispy cloud embroidery

but wears it insouciantly

as if to say ‘this? Oh, it’s just

something I threw on.’

Such extravagant heavens

wasted on us buses.

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