I sip green tea in a quiet corner
and beyond the sunstained window
an agile flash of red sedan
parks its clean lines; chrome
headlamps like insect eyes
A little girl sits on her hands
at a table beside me, watching
her full-mouthed father
work his chopsticks.
I know what magic is—
warm food in the belly, a sunny
afternoon among gentle strangers,
the raw clarity of a new automobile
which, when I turn to look again
has changed to blue.