What We Carry
my mother & I condense
a lifetime together into weekly
hikes — there are never enough
daylight hours we seek out
wild rapeseed moss-soft fennel
prickly radish leaves that unfurl
to fold up gently: we linger
in languid afternoon light,
traipse from patch to patch
squat to forage in a rush all
that we recognize as humble
nourishment. My mother, eyes
wild with huáijiù, plucks
tender shoots in eager handfuls,
states in a matter-of-fact tone:
It is in our DNA this trauma,
the need to store up enough food
to stave off winters men —
cannot and will not ever understand
what we carry inside us. In silence
we walk the path, heads held high
a lifetime together into weekly
hikes — there are never enough
daylight hours we seek out
wild rapeseed moss-soft fennel
prickly radish leaves that unfurl
to fold up gently: we linger
in languid afternoon light,
traipse from patch to patch
squat to forage in a rush all
that we recognize as humble
nourishment. My mother, eyes
wild with huáijiù, plucks
tender shoots in eager handfuls,
states in a matter-of-fact tone:
It is in our DNA this trauma,
the need to store up enough food
to stave off winters men —
cannot and will not ever understand
what we carry inside us. In silence
we walk the path, heads held high
Melody Wang currently resides in sunny Southern California with her dear husband. In her free time, she dabbles in piano composition and also enjoys hiking, baking, and playing with her dogs. She can be found on Twitter @MelodyOfMusings.
Art: Public Domain