SPECIAL ISSUE: CONNECTING GENERATIONS
Granddaughter of WWII Veteran
Teaching Artist of Senior Workshop
I know you don’t know me but I come from many places and many planets: the rivers as long as my own grandmother’s veins, as transparent as the sea cupped in my hands; the bridge I walked over as a child, no clothes on just a diaper made up of cloth and salted water falling from my mouth. I’m dreaming of a mango tree as big as a house, cool and sweet-smelling.
My grandfather is from a small farm in the middle of the mountains and rice paddies, wet and alive, mosquitoes buzzing for days and sugar cane, when bitten and sucked, heaven tastes like this.
This—far from eternal, just now.
All my love, and the obsessive stars,