The last time I
visited my parents in Taipei, I strolled through Da An, an affluent
leafy residential district known for its prominent universities and
small publishing houses. I spent half an hour in its winding alleyways
and couldn’t find the bookstore I had frequented for 20 years. At first,
I felt a surge of panic and, moments later, a stabbing pain in my body.
The Taipei I had known was gone.
on the wall
an old map of Taipei --
I look outside,
tiers of color lighting up
the Toronto night sky
Atlas Poetica, 21, 2015
Note: Taipei is the city of my birth, the capital of Taiwan (formerly known as the Republic of China)
