Everyone remembered his parents,
but only his neighbor Hui came over regularly.

And each day, Weng took the Shanghai Forever family tricycle
to the corner, came home for lunch, ate with the radio on—
then returned for the afternoon shift.

Whatever remained at dusk,

Weng would cook for his own dinner.

Then watch television.

Laugh out loud to himself washing dishes.

The old spring bed was his now, and in the evening,
in the darkness

when he closed his eyes and cycled through childhood,

felt it was almost certainly true,

the best years of his life were gone.