Memory
Barbara Hu
last night’s rock music bar
in the beach town dwindles
we grip the rusty
rock stretched over the tides
tiptoe atop, the shellfish
sea stars in the pools
we stand here early in the morning
wait for the sun to come out, knowing
sometimes she won’t appear till noon
we mindlessly enjoy waves
splash against the wall
as chilly sea water dots
our windbreakers
quickly dry out by sea wind
we welcome two sea birds
into our world
shivering on their legs
cling tightly to tiny cracks
fog shrouds the opposite
bank as the dim lamplight
brings us back to two islands
Taiwan & Hong Kong
two of lost generation
we wander, we tightly clip
our feet, in search for hope
among this new land
we come home at night
and close the door behind us
next morning
I hang kitchen towels in the yard
no matter how hard I twist
little droplets drip
under the morning sun