Peter Davis  © 2005 All Rights Reserved


My grandmotherís plastic soapbox; pink
Her voice, wash water on sunned cement
My friendís dictionary, her inscribed
Chinese characters, straight and square
My sonís sea-moss hair
My grandfatherís poem about monkeys,
and his dream of following them
The ballerina figurine is what my mother sings
to, after my father turns deaf

The snow-blinded alley waits for me
The boy on the snow, pushing
himself up, is my son
The precarious journey is our journey
Every morning even the faintest stars check out
The stars are those you love, they are
not Godís stalking telescope
The ink stroke in my friendís calligraphy is her spine
My son and his gannets are flying away, are flying away

Pui Ying Wong
Copyright © 2005


Pui Ying is a native of Hong Kong and has lived in the U.S. since the mid 70’s. She writes in both Chinese and English. Her poems have appeared in the Asian Pacific American Journal, China Press, New World Poetry, and Poetz. By day she is a social worker. She lives in Brooklyn and is working on a poetry collection

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