ALISON WONG
Autumn, Shanghai
plane leaves turn, begin
to fall—a migrant sweeps
with a sorghum broom
others plant Golden Week
flowers—purple yellow
red flags in the breeze
over smooth stone paving
a calligrapher paints, dips
his long brush
with water
zuo zuo zuo yihuir—
sit sit sit awhile
a white butterfly, a black butterfly
erhu, wooden flute
in the pavilion a man, a woman
sing Heaven’s Road
camphor trees now bereft
of cicadas—I hear
fathers plant a tree
at the birth of each daughter
watch them grow, fashion
a camphorwood chest
I have no daughter
along the wide path—mothers
fathers grandmothers chatter
over advertisements
for marriage clipped
to open umbrellas
male born 1989 Shanghai residency
something I cannot read
¥4,000/month
moral character something I have
to look up in the dictionary
female born 1983
US post-graduate studies?
own apartment something
seeking moral character
something something
a man appears, speaks
in dialect something something
but I am only reading—please
I am trying so hard to read
something something something he says
moral character something
Does he think I am here for my son?
Ni duo da? he asks—How old are you?
You laogong ma?—Have you a husband?
(Oh)
You, I say—I have
Sorry sorry sorry his first words in English
someone is taking a photograph
someone is having a photograph taken
the calligrapher is still
painting
something evaporates
like morning
Alison Wong is a poet and fiction writer. She has written a novel, poetry collection and been widely published in journals and anthologies. Her debut novel, As the Earth Turns Silver (Penguin, 2009) won the New Zealand Post Book Award for Fiction, and was shortlisted for the Australian Prime Minister’s Literary Awards in 2010.
Links
Alison Wong's New Zealand Book Council profile