China days

the days donšt begin or end
lingering like the humid air
comfortable, lazy, sweet
they all rush to schools, markets, work
in the morning crispness
i am left with only memories

i played outside the building once
the sound of rocks hitting the green garage
i went to the kindergarten across the street once
the taxis whizzing past me in both directions
i went to the morning market with grandma once
the riotous daily ritual of retirees and vendors

i strolled in the park, holding grandmašs hand once
how could the beautiful lotus flower bloom in that putrid lake?
i hurried to elementary school after my afternoon nap once
but never before eating a tomato dipped in sugar
i walked with some classmates once
if only they would stop asking me about test scores

i stood for hours holding that brush once. a never-ending breath
did anyone else know that the strokes were more important than the awards?
i ran to the store around the corner once
the red bean popsicle is dripping on my hand
i hugged my grandpa once, for no reason at all
if only i did that more

the green garage is still there, just more beaten by the rocks
the kindergarten has a new playground now, for my little cousin
the morning market, still dirty and smelly and loud and fun


i still hold my grandmašs hand in the park
i donšt want to let go
the uniforms havenšt changed but the faces have
how old my teachers look now. were we ever that young?
the classmates prepare for their entrance exams and never stop to talk
just as well, they would still ask about the test scores

i miss the force, the poetry, the beauty of those strokes
the smell of ink and paper still lingers in that calligraphy room
the store has ŗhip American˛ flavors now
but i buy my cousin a red bean popsicle and his smile lingers
my grandpa, his spirit still lingers in the rooms
listening to the opera, playing solitaire, and waiting for a hug from me

the years in china donšt begin or end
lingering like the humid air
comfortable, lazy, sweet

Stephanie Wei Wang

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