Lunch Time In Shanghai Poem by David Taylor

Arriving in a strange new landscape,
tentatively stepping out
(exploring):
all speaking a language
of which I have little understanding.

The mind focused
on a veneer of difference,
(the canvas forgotten) .
The vibrancy of the colours
absorbed in a varnish of uncertainty.

I return to the hotel box
now made my own;
(scattered with familiar possessions) .
A rose colored varnish
of familiarity,
all the more deceptive;
the real danger?

Do I go to Starbucks
and order my favorite coffee,
(with four layer chocolate cake)
or drink Chinese tea
and eat noodles in the market place?