Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Poetry 2019 | Page 79

sir, sir, with all due respect
what on earth are you doing?
we get back to China tomorrow
now is not the time for
fortune telling!
Zheng He smiles, one of
knowing, understanding.
He approaches us
cabin boy looks at me
his eyes full of the shared secret
too big for him to keep.
then he stops, admiral calls
for a new pair of hands.
cabin boy has passed.
carpenter one,
i do not know their names, i
only know them by
face and eyebrows,
his rough creased hands,
the colour of cropped wheat,
passes too
carpenter two,
the man who found the egg,
comes with such a straight
and steady posture, you’d
never think he was in on it.
lies roll off his tongue to keep
Admiral busy, though for what
i do not know.
he passes, and i go.
Zheng He traces the
lines on my palms,
my long life line,
my dry skin, my
long fingernails.
he presses my hand,
the warmth of his hand against mine
and he
knows
he steps back
nods to his comrade
a man with fierce looks
harsh eyes
the last thing i see is Zheng He’s eyes
a mix of pity and understanding,
but also pure leadership,
intelligence i will never measure up to
because i am never given the chance