A little poem to Beijing, as we’re leaving soon-ish

Three and a half years ago when we first arrived, I hated the change and drowned in self-pity, But now that we’re leaving, my mind keeps turning To all that I’ll remember about this funny old city:   Spitting men and honking cars, The smell of burning coal baked into my hair, Taxi fare scams and … More A little poem to Beijing, as we’re leaving soon-ish