Jonathan ROBIN - Hong Kong

Spinning criss cross patterns as they post across the harbour, <br />spray kissing, barely miss each other, business to the fore, <br />the junks and ferries seem such toys when seen from seventh floor <br />or stateroom on the seventeenth, but does it matter any more? <br /> <br />Does it matter, for the room is insulated from outside, <br />from heat and from humidity, from differences too wide <br />in wealth and wisdom where the West unwelcome is as bride, <br />though brides are taken for a time, who doweries provide. <br /> <br />(15 April 1981)<br /><br />Jonathan ROBIN<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hong-kong/