Mother (Excerpt)
I know now, as I did in my childhood wonder
that my mother dreamed of a paradise
one unbound by war and exodus.
On the living room carpet we sit
I pluck her grey hairs and ask:
‘Mother, what ever was your passion in life?’
She smiles—that eternal smile
a question suspended in mid-air.
Her neck tilts like a sunflower
too heavy to meet the sky.
- Vuong Pham
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