The day I found grandma in
my mother’s forehead and closed eyes I saw red & gold foliage. In the stories she used to tell me a bird saves a mountain. I don’t remember much of my childhood only the smell of freshly escaped crabs tucked away in the cracks of sofas and atlas holding the weight of the sky. My mother and I are both born on the slippery ends of words but I have never tasted hers and she mine. My words are too complicated for her broken English and hers crackled in the flames of her past. Sometimes I am ashamed that the English language slips off my tongue without effort and every time she reads my words they drench her in red & gold.
2 Comments
2/28/2019 07:03:46 pm
The skill, magnificence, and sheer beauty of this poem renders me speechless. I hope the literary world sees much more of Ms. Wang!!!
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Anabel
3/3/2019 08:03:22 pm
What a beautiful poem! Can’t wait to read more from this writer!
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Emma WangEmma Wang is a 17-year-old writer born in Xi’an, China but currently attends Indian Springs School in Alabama. Her work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Cosmonauts Avenue, The Mire, K’in Magazine, Teen Ink Magazine, and has been recognized by the Scholastic Arts and Writing awards. On days when she remembers it, she likes to write about random things in her blog www.lifes-lemons.com. She participates in a variety of things, including drinking coffee, laughing at horror movies with her friends, and napping. |