Evening in Ulaanbaatar

Day starts to end.

The sky a pasty pink,

the bus quiet save for for a toddler’s chatter

entertaining weary,

content

faces

.

Stepping o’er feathers

watching summer clothes and heels

tap tap tap in tune with the lines you skip over on the sidewalk.

Smells change with

every other pace –

savoury

sweet

still unfamiliar

.

Is it home

when a dog greets you?

Maybe. Maybe not

.

I am content

to let evening linger

.

Today is done.

Tomorrow will come

but I don’t need

to think about that yet.

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