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.