We enter the mall
in Shanghai
The doors slide open.
warm air.
bright lights.
It is December 24
But no snow on sight.
Red decorations hang
from the ceiling.
plastic trees
gold balls in threes
soft music
but not in English
People moved fast
like there was some rush
bags in their hands
all doing some errands
I touch a sweater
then another one
The fabric is soft
or maybe just okay
The mirrors showed
a dress as white as snow
My feet got tired
before my eyes do.
There's so many things to do.
Sales signs are everywhere
numbers, colors,
languages mixed together.
I heard “Jingle Bells”
but I did not understand
The rhythm was familiar
that I understand.
We stopped to look again.
Things never stayed the same.
I hold a jacket in my hand
and imagine wearing it fun.
By the time we leave,
the bags are heavier
I don't want to leave.
Everything is nicer.
The night is still busy
lights blinking
like it is celebrating
Christmas in China
is different than what I know.
It's different
even without snow.
But it still feels special
in a quiet way.
It still feels special
even if it's this way.
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