Late Night Snack

I stand in line and wait for my bing like every one else.
Tonight I will try the one that comes with carrots.
Someone on a bike goes by, ringing their bell in the dark
just outside the circle of steam formed when the batter hits.

I look up and see the clouds lit bright against the sky
back framing a new glass, 40 some story building.

For a moment, I consider asking my bing man where he's from,
how long he's run this cart in the central business district,
selling late night street food to security guards and construction workers
moving concrete in the wee hours.

But I don't want to shatter this second, this city,
this quiet peace I am imposing.
So I wait, listen to the sounds of egg breaking,
sauce brush painting, spatula scraping,
give him a five kuai note, take my warm bing bag and
trip along home.