Along the Wei River,
My train meanders its way through Shaanxi.
Even as the Loess Plateau degrades,
Apple trees can still bloom in spring.
I recall steaming bowls of hot soup
Generously ladled out by mother.
I whet my lips in anticipation.
In my mind, I am already home.
© 2017 S Phua
Your memory blooms like those apple trees, that train your train of thought. Tender. Thank you!