humidity in the desert and in hong kong
cool wet air, walking out to drink coffee this morning. noticed dew dripping from the verandah ceiling. breeze licking and tickling the inside of my ear.
i remember hong kong with my father. just the two of us in the bay, watching the light show. wind coming off the water.
colors rose slowly as usual in the western sky. purple line above the horizon, khaki green of trees. pale blue of early sky.
colors danced in hong kong. lasers stuttering from one end of the city to the other. buildings doing mexican waves, but somehow less forced.
and stillness now this morning. staring at the phone pole against the stark blue. neither moving.
my father and i still in hong kong by the edge of the boardwalk. lasers beaming overhead like friends who you know won’t harm you. families gliding by.
this breeze today thick enough to breathe in the epitome of coolness. thin as to be swimming through water with just enough resistance to feel limbs are doing breaststroke.
two men still in the busiest city in the world. one man still in the quietest town in the cosmos.