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Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Poem ---- Joanna Sit

Soldier, Night
                                                                                    In memory of Danny Chen                   
By mountain night moon he reads
            his future, the distant fire
seems close but he knows it can never be
reached in time, that he can
not be saved, that he will dissolve
                        but his bones, blood will run

towards it anyway, even as all promises multiply
even if they will say he couldn’t endure
    the gravel he had to crawl through
                           those sharp rocks those small missiles daily
curse cutting across troposphere tracking
           his foreign body his immigrant scent

there will be no witness
                           except his people’s memory
skin torn to mend someone else’s universe
to be a man apart
to keep another child safe in night
                        lights, shapes of seashells

or octopi, each bulb an eye in the tip of tapered tentacle,
cut like candles that never flicker
            never waver until its circuits break
  until its flow interrupted
               like the life he used to have
in a city he used to know

    when he was the child who opened
            his eyes midnight facing
                         East he’s here now
under mountain night stars brimming
he’s alone in the tower facing up
to the wheel of fire, the magic spokes
            tangled to varicose madness

and he won’t wait
                        for the rose to open
                        for the gun to weep

and he won’t wonder
about the boy who lies
            about the wolf and now lies bleeding

     in this motherless season

he won’t tell anyone
            when the sky falls down

he won’t worry
about the wheel of fortune
or the sound of the one clapping hand

by the mountain night stars, the October silence
            opens like a door
that he drifts through
                        after fire water light


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