A haiku sequence for my father who was born in mainland China, lived most of his adult life in Taiwan, died and was buried there in 2022
a slice of my life
in father's foggy mind
birthday sunset
father silver-haired
now my child
foggy winter night
ventilator hiss
Father's face blurry
and blurrier...
this faded photo ...
the story father told us
as mother grinned
this weight
of the words half spoken
a stone on Father's grave
FYI: For more about my father's story, see my tanka prose below:
A Chain Smoker of Few Words
My father, who was born in mainland China, quit his studies to defend his country against the Japanese invasion. Later, he fought his fellow countrymen for the sake of unifying war-torn China. Retreating to Taiwan along with the defeated Chinese Nationalist Army, he was separated from his family in China for four decades. He spent most of his adult life in Taiwan, worked hard to support his new family, died and was buried there without ever again seeing any of his family members from China.
this dream loop:
riding on my shoulders
into the Taiwan Strait
Father cries out, Mama
wait for me, I'm coming home
Added:
for ten days
onslaught after onslaught
of writer's block ...
I look out the window
at the moon, its fullness
Added:
white sand
slips through my fingers
a flash
of morning sunlight
in each grain
Added:
one brown patch
after another, another
on the lawn ...
we speak less day by day
as the end of spring approaches
