Generations of filial piety reduced to an amalgam of moments in a vacuum--Who came to name the chapters of lunar change? I fear nature taking its course, the immensity of moonless sky inevitable.
It begins with the instant sweet coffee, staring out to morning sun--maybe like that morning, there is hope in our hearts sustaining us. To learn about each other.
Undefined ebb and flow. Peaches staining our fingers, the fuzz falling around us like feathers.Like people in the steel dragon underground, where I am compressed on a daytrip with just you, grandma.
Behind the curtain of the Pacific Ocean lies a radiating power greater than I; these forces cannot be controlled.Who knew when water slips through calloused fingers it is a prophet’s message uncorked?
New Moon. I never call grandma; grandma waits in silence.
Mother Nature is anything but divine. Earth turns on the conscience of almost eight billion hearts beating. From this comes a sliver of a waxing moon, recovering from none. Here’s to new beginnings.
Celine Choi from A and M Consolidated High School describes her work this way: "My poetry is always inspired by the most impactful events in my life. Whether it is my frustration with navigating interpersonal relationships, political happenings, or exploring my culture, poetry is a significant medium."