Weng and his father lived in the old part of Beijing,
where blind Mr. Fun had grown up.

But the hutong districts were disappearing
under shadows of rising concrete and glass.

As the years went by, Weng knew that, one day in the future,

someone would sit staring at a flat-screen television

on a white leather couch

where there had once been a basket of scarves
under an old spring bed,

and a hot kitchen with a drawer that wouldn’t close,

and things hung to dry in the windows,

and a sagging, rosewood chair with a red cushion

where blind Mr. Fun used to sit,

listening to his favorite show,

Empty Mirror.