Up above my right shoulder hides the moon,
it is not yet dark, but the day is unmistakably ending.
beyond my left shoulder lies the sun,
sitting quietly on the horizon, a deep shade of red.
a plane flies overhead.
"damnit! I swear, every 30 minutes a plane goes by"
a lone eagle deftly maneuvers by the pacific club.
he finds his ledge and disappears from view.
a strangely idyllic spot in the middle of all that hustle and bustle
my new favorite location, wedged between the two coasts
Kowloon on my right, Hong Kong on my left
bridging them, a vast expanse of murky harbor water
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