The White Ship (28 V.2) Poem by David McLansky

(28) On Doyer Street


We sat within the window seat
And watched the L-shaped cobbled street
We sat as lovers on display
Who watch the light slip from the day

We sat beside a potted palm
Your tabled-hand soft and calm
A Chinese crone served us tea
She grinned at our felicity

Perched in the window, a perfect room
A porcelain couple, richly groomed,
Elegantly sipping tea
Victorian in their majesty

But oh, the yearning o’er the pot
May this perfection never stop
Turn flesh to clay and fire it
That we may so forever sit

The shadows draped and masked your face
You poured my tea with silvered grace
Grains of sugar in a whirlpool
Swirling in your sovereign rule

But the dim sum came on a rolling cart
And the dishes chased our hands apart
The old crone worked her timeless trade
Green teeth shown with each dish laid