‘Heritage’, First Place in Poetry

    Heritage

    by Jonathan Chen

    How even stone pillars can crumble.
    How a family’s hopes blossom into
    bitter fruit in the sun.
    How, in a sea of Western
    colors, you’ll forget
    the one you wore each day.
    You’ll let go of a place
    where steam rose into sad clothes
    that told the story of the woman
    who lived on the 8th floor,
    chase after loose kites in the summer wind.
    You’ll hold onto what you know:
    forks and knives,
    five vowels but never six.
    Until one day the kids will come,
    seeds you dropped along the way.
    They’ll want to meet
    yeye & nainai, jiejie & gege,
    pull and pull on their wet paper skin
    until it rips into years you dream of crawling into.