Chinese New Year's Eve In Hangzhou Poem by Raymond Farrell

Today
As I sit
Under the locust tree
I recall that yesterday
My evening walk
Took me past shuttered stores
On desolate streets
Which the day before teemed with people
Were nearly empty
Here and there, a straggler only
And in the distance
The constant din of fireworks
It's their New Year, not mine
Within, I feel
A strange mixture of loneliness and melancholy
Well up
No longer held at bay
By the hustle and bustle
Of the distracting crowds
Now off celebrating their New Year.