Streams

Who are we?

I pedalled home through Little Shanghai today and stopped at the market that steams of fish and leeks. I always peddle out into traffic on the wet street because they hose the sidewalk down outside the store. Today I got down and walked with everyone over the wet concrete past the news stands and between the aisles to smell the aging vegetables, the pickles, and the spice.

If I lived on the field I worked and flooded it, if I ate the produce of that field and drank the irrigation, what difference would remain between the swamps out and inside?