Dissolving Dreams
Troy, MI
2021, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
Shorelines haven’t changed since my mother’s
youth. Her strides were long, confident. Feet
callused from years walking rocky shores. Like
two jellyfishes embracing, her fingers to my
palm. Water tenderly carrying away
painted footprints on a sandy canvas.
Past constellations of starfish, I am submerged
within animalic aromas. As if from all this
smelling, seagrass binds to my throat—
lungs opening like the face of the sea.
I have always loved my mother, but
now, amid the depths of her fragility,
in her silence, I see the gentle-hearted
women who brought me up.
Within the crashes of waves,
I hear my mother’s tongue—
mandarin—softening before sleep.
Sounds forgotten.
Afar, lifeless fish
drift towards cemeteries.
Their fossils,
trapped within
jigsaws of
manmade wires
and debris.
Frustration etched in her brow.
Decades unfurling and
now, air lingers with
tastes of iridescent grease,
fumes of pesticides, and
reminders of rotting waste.
Scents that blister my lips.
She had dreamed of coming back.
For what is a home if not a location?
Such longing of,
birth, childhood, and familiarity.
Longings shredded and scattered
into the sea, fading
within the
tides and
ebbs.
Reflection
Reflection
My grandmother grew up in a small fishing village and spent her childhood swimming in crystal clear waters and catching fish with the local fisherman. But every time she finished the stories, she would stare blankly at the sky, as if reminiscing the past. A few summers ago, I visited my mother’s hometown of Shantou and witnessed a scene drastically different from my grandmother's narratives. Along the coastline, large factories covered the shores and massive pipelines pumped greasy liquid into the ocean. Through my poem, I hope to capture the emotions my grandmother felt when she once again walked the coastlines she grew up in. In this poem, I try to capture the essence of human destruction and how even a remote fishing village can be heavily impacted by deadly pollution.