Poem: Chance Encounter

You are one in ten million
Workers in a forgotten city
Where the horn blasts are like
Voices in the wilderness
With Napoleon complexes
Screaming to be heard
And somewhere in the middle
In the pile of bricks and rubble
From a giant’s tantrum
Our eyes meet for the first,
Last and only time
Your cigarette is a dying glow-worm
And the smoke is lost before
It escapes the smog
That smothers the sun
But your eyes – your eyes! –
They burn like the city lights
Which deny the darkness
Of the Harbin night.

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