April has ended, and though I started late…I wrote a poem everyday until the end of the month. I hope you have enjoyed reading these little snippets of my life! What challenge should I try next?
Tuesday I dreamt I was home.
The feel of my bed sheets and
my dog curled up beside me.
It felt so real, my home, soft
and slipping around me like a hug.
But then I opened my eyes.
I was dropped back half way
around the world. I never knew
I could miss a bed so much.
The token foreigner, it’s a role I’ve come to know. Sitting between them all, words floating around me, mostly falling lost upon my ears. I wonder if they like the looks we get when people spot the girl with golden hair. How does it make them feel to become a part of my walking spectacle?
4/28/16 The Land of the Free
All my country used to mean to me was a pledge and a flag.
Making the move across the world, I never really left it behind.
Everywhere I go, it seems the first question on their lips.
Right now, my country doesn’t have the best reputation.
Indulgent, Self-absorbed, Rude, Obese and Violent.
Carefully I try and craft a different image for my home.
An ambassador of a different generation of ideas.
Nothing more, than a hopeful, young American.
I had been there before, walked the streets
Eyes trailing over the ornate roofs and pillars.
I’d eaten the food, famous in the region
Mixed the rice and vegetables and sipped the wine.
I’d walked through the palace, looked at the
Portraits and marble stone statues.
But you turn and smile at me, spin around
So your hanbok skirt floats around you.
You pose for pictures with each building
Hold up your food with a big grin.
I’ve done all this before, but with you
It could never be better.
4/30/16 Hold On
Right before it rains, you can feel it in the air.
It’s like everything is hanging, waiting and still.
You hold your breath, waiting for the sky to open.
The air feels heavy, like the moisture is already
seeping down unseen and pressing against you.
Then the wind pulls in, cool and crisp on your skin,
raising the hairs on your arms till the rain finally breaks
through and that comforting slap of droplets against
pavement sings it’s lullaby to you. And you breathe.