Good morning Chinatown

I wait patiently in my streetcar seat
for the clouded morning to decide
just what kind of day she wants to be.

From the window I watch
the markets in Chinatown
nudge back their bars and
unfold their fruits
like saplings
pushing through earth.

Though dawn remains
a strange and foreign land
I do enjoy the quiet early hours
when the inner chattering that readily stays
up the night with me for company
still sleeps.