No Place Like Home

No Place Like Home

A prophetic wind blew.
We had landed not in Oz, but in

The land of the ginkgo tree,
Rice paddies & kimchi.

Half new, but old & true
To a traditional standard of

Morals & values that hold
Its men, women & children

In the palms of God’s own
Hands. There were no babies

With babies up or down its
Streets, no gangsters or guns

Threatening the republic it
Greets. Rich men, poor men,

Villages in between, store
Fronts, peddlers & violence

Unseen. From Incheon to Itaewon
Was but a different sight to see,

East Asian versions of what
We call American dreams.

© Latorial D. Faison. All rights reserved.
This poem was published in Poetry Quarterly, Issue 13.

No comments: