Descending across water into an Asian city at night, br the coastline separates electricity from the darkness, br save for a few solitary lights on boats full of stories. br The captain is reading a book. Or he is working on his br memoirs as a fisherman, father, husband, struggling br for income in a ferocious profession. He works at br night, emerging from the tiny cabin to check on things. br The deck is wet with dew. He steps carefully while br I step into and out of his life. Someone like him br hears my plane thunder overhead and does not react. br I don’t care to meet him. I simply used him for some br Idle musing from above about the anonymous good br Folks down below. Writing his memoirs? Fat chance. br I hope the ministry has sent a car to meet me.