Jasmine steam

this curling steam carries the scent of jasmine tea

and with it a silent stream of associations

from decades long evaporated . . .

fresh faced children

sell garlands of jasmine blossoms

in the Ubon streets at night

best friends by day

competitors after the sun goes down

as they each offer sweet, sweet smelling

flower strings

3 garlands, 10 baht

3 garlands, 10 baht

I buy their flowers after being hypnotized

by their expert puppy-eyes

here, let me have them all

20 garlands, 50 garlands, whatever you have

tonight, go home early and sleep

I become known as the white man whose house reeks

of that concentrated perfume

garlands dangling everywhere . . .

heat from the small ceramic cup

burns my fingers as,

eyes closed, I inhale the jasmine steam

how are these children now,

and, by now, these children's children?

as I sip the tea its flavor goes away.