We Didn't Talk About the Weather at the Chinese Club Party
It didn't rain that day
and the little paper umbrella
painted with sakura
was only a garnish
in my piña colada
The chrysanthemum brocade
on my cheongsam
made me look like a dancing girl
from 1940s Shanghai
rather than a well-bred lady
The magnolias had nothing
to do with cherry blossoms
though I mixed them up
like some professors did
with their Asian pupils
I was and still am
a lost seagull
in the metropolis
where we were once birds
of myriad feathers
No comments:
Post a Comment