Every window, a meal

Beijing, China — Imagine you are walking home from work, school, or catching up with friendly muses when as you enter your neighborhood, you sense familiar things.

Knives chopping against wood
Woman harping at children from the stove
Water gushing from a faucet
Ceramic plates and silver clinking
Cabinets slamming
Slippers scuffling against tile
Peeler yielding to a potato

Cleaver hacking
Mortar and pestel pounding
Wet bean sprouts sizzling against a pan
Onions grilling
Bone broths boiling
Fried fish aroma wafting
Ginger, scallions, and garlic

Scent and sound drift from each window and permeate my senses.
Transported to my kitchen, my mother’s kitchen, their kitchens.
I stand below their windows as dinner sonnets whet my appetite.