Beijing

Beijing

After breakfast at the Hotel Continental,

The orange juice cool, pure,

We venture out,

Arm in arm-

For safety-

Into bustling, dusty, streets.

A tsunami of noise hits us,

Makes us draw back.

Traffic - six lanes-

Hooting horns screeching-

Engines revving-

Making music with 

Constant tinkling of bells 

From the bikes 

As they weave through 

Disinterested people,

Who, like squawking seagulls,

Swarm along overflowing pavements.

First impressions of Beijing...

Like debris we are swept unwillingly

In this fast flowing river.

We look up

High rise, anonymous

Dirty, grey structures,

Imprison ants 

Whose hope is 

A fleck of blue

Remembered.

Beside us as we hurry by,

Shops selling 

Tea, fans, chinese hats,

Beckon us,

Aromatic bouquets excite our nostrils.

Finally,

In a side street,

We take a rest,

In a Japanese Cafe.

They tell us:

"Don't eat the food here,

It's mostly dog"

We sip a beer 

And ponder

How we'll get back to the hotel.