2 Poems
Xiaoly LI New Year Are you time, or are you space? Or dark matter’s ghost? You come as you are, to face icy snow. When dark energy passes, I remain entangled in the 5% of what I see. I’ll not make new resolutions, that can’t be held. The past is enough to digest. Children should be a certain way. Adults should be wiser. Why am I not where I want to be? Perhaps I do understand you, below zero—winter, the seed of spring. I’ll let you through me, loose my fixed mind. I’ll love what is. Father Morning haze covers the winding road, that won’t reach you, it stops in the wood. As a girl, I’d ride your shoulders to swim, now we video chat, your hair, silk white. Beside my Mac, my betta fish, stares at me -- Moon Child, I wish you would say what you can’t. Years ago, I’d bring a cup of tea for you, father, you shouted, don’t interrupt my work. Today, we are eager to talk. Wish we had talked more in the past, you say. Before we finish naming 108 women characters in the Story of the Stone, the smog has cleared. Your mother called, it is time we take our walk, you say. Every leaf is different, so you can make unique art, you add. The goji berry in my glass pot bubbles, smells earthy. I am thinking, I’m a different leaf, what will you say? |
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About the Author: Xiaoly Li is a poet, photographer and former computer engineer who lives in Massachusetts. Prior to writing poetry she published stories in a selection of Chinese newspapers. Her photography, which has been shown and sold in galleries in the Boston, often accompanies her poems. Her poetry is forthcoming in J Journal and appeared in Off The Coast. She currently studies poetry with Barbara Helfgott Hyett. Xiaoly received her PhD in electrical engineering from Worcester Polytechnic Institute and Masters in computer science and engineering from Tsinghua University in China.