By Fly Oy Wong

 

“See that tree, Say So?

It is dying. So must I.”

Your words float towards me in your small apartment

The freeway noise, an uninvited companion,

Rumbles into the living room

Where you and I sit

Our hearts linked, hands not touching

Your slippers sliding to the floor.

I smile to hide my unease

I look at you, kind eyes framed by wrinkles

Not many but they are there.

Your hair pulled back in a bun

Worn that way for many years

Except for the time you had a perm

Curls making you uncomfortable

I didn’t know you then

But I know you now.

Our knowing shimmering like light green opals

Of your ring mounted in soft gold

Worn when you wiped your son’s face

On a sultry summer’s eve

That iridescence I feel now

As I fumble on a thin layer of dreams.

* * *

Flo Oy Wong is a Sunnyvale, CA-based artist/poet/educator.  She, the recipient of three National Endowment for the Art awards, began her art career at the age of 40.  At the age of 75 Flo began writing poetry in earnest.  Her writing is inspired by Billie Collins, Ted Kooser, and Lucille Clifton.  In May of 2015 the University of Reno will be publishing 10 of her poems.