Chen-ou Liu

alone again

on a seaside bench

tides of childhood

lap against memory

in the quiet of my mind

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

a girl in red

silhouetted against the glow

of a streetlight

the spark of her cigarette

deepens this winter night

—Chen-ou Liu

my mind

straddled between cliché

and half-baked idea …

suddenly a burst 

of skylark song

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

in late night chill

these rusting staples

on a bulletin board

below the missing puppies

a missing pink-haired teen

—Chen-ou Liu

unpacking

boxes in a dusty corner

of the attic ...

faded photos buried deep 

in my immigrant heart

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

in the mirror

more strands of gray hair

yet in my mind's eye

I catch a glimpse of me

at 20 with to-do lists

—Chen-ou Liu

box after box

of my immigrant life

in moonlit shadows

those I can't part with

those I can (but will I?)

—Chen-ou Liu

alone

in the shadow

of her man ...

another winter

together alone

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

false dawn ...

first to rise, my twin toddlers

sing up the sun 

—Chen-ou Liu

the newborn

between in-laws and her

hard-edged sunlight

—Chen-ou Liu

office gossip

the chirrups

of crickets

—Chen-ou Liu

alone in half-light

my mother folding clothes

like a retail pro ...

the comfort of routine

in this war-shaken world

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

blossom on blossom

I wish I could 

let go of the past

—Chen-ou Liu

a flock of geese

flapping twilight silence

tenth year in exile

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

river stroll

salmon leap from cloud

to cloud

—Chen-ou Liu

Mother's farewell

lasts far into my first night ...

Taiwan, lone island

seen through the airplane window

as my lower lip trembles

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

slanted moonlight

on nail holes in the wall ...

box after box

of my immigrant life

wrapped in shadows

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

silver-haired father

now my child

foggy winter night

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

I seem happy

in this wedding photo

with brown edges ...

on my then-wife's face

a look I never knew

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

cold moon

in the web of barbed wire

a refugee child's gaze

—Chen-ou Liu

jolted awake

from a recurring dream

I murmur

is my immigrant past

this black hole of what-ifs?

—Chen-ou Liu

first snowflakes ...

a lone refugee girl

pirouetting

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

in my mind

you shouldn't get married

loud and louder ...

we're like two vacuum cleaners

sucking at each other

—Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

frog pond

the slow drifting

of my haiku-boat

Chen-ou Liu

she's gone ...

alone, I sleep

with the dark

Chen-ou Liu

the door

of a foreclosed house

blown open

by a winter gust ...

inside and out this emptiness

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

hometown memories

I still hold on to

snowflakes in the wind

Chen-ou Liu

happy or not

just to be as I am ...

patches of fog

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

in my tank

rainbow koi swimming

in circles ...

the same question years ago,

to stay or to go

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

forest bathing

I follow the footsteps

of my inner child

Chen-ou Liu

fiftieth birthday

halfway to the summit

in silence

Chen-ou Liu

gnarled roots

the family stories

left untold

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

Facebook outage

I listen

to midnight stars

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

the door slammed shut ...

my world without her shrinks

to a tv screen

Chen-ou Liu

the door

open to blue skies

in the stillness

a caged eagle and I

become one

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

Mother once sighed,

you've spoken English for too long

you might forget me ...

exiled for years, I can't recall

which language I dream in

Chen-ou Liu

Chen-ou Liu

all that

remains

down

to

the dark

alone

Chen-ou Liu

where were you born?

a neighbor's knife-sharp question ...

near the fence

I see green leaves and buds

on a maple tree stump

Chen-ou Liu

my body lies

next to my wife's for years

and yet

in a corner of my mind

this woman in red

Chen-ou Liu