TAILOR SHOP WINDOW
Old Manchu, I thought you were a manikin sitting there
in mandarin robes, a tassel hanging from your round cap,
blankly staring into this busy street with obsidian eyes
until you raised one brow a flicker above the spool
of your ancient sewing machine and stroked
the thin threads of beard that hung
immutably from the needle of your chin
Did your family lose its fortune at the end of the Qing Dynasty?
Did your young wife die in the escape from Chairman Mao?
I lost mine to madness for fear I would not return to her
from the Vietnam War
By the Red Lightning insignia on my jacket you can see
I too am “Manchu,” 4th of the 9th Infantry, Tay Ninh Province
Some buttons are missing and the sleeve is breaking apart
at the seam on the left shoulder
Maybe if I come inside you can mend it and tell me
a wise man’s story
