Hedyloidea (My Father’s Soul)
By Deborah Wong
I was forewarn by Old People, that
my father’s soul’s will transform
into a flying moth
or a monarch butterfly;
He is to have flourescent pigments,
I can only watch where it’s travelling
and I have to leave without a feisty trail
before he can catch me.
I go out and tell I’ve seen
a glowing tangerine, so vibrant;
that I’m blinded even I’m protected
by the raven crayons,
Afraid to be taken away, please be patient
it’s not the time to join you, yet.
I hang a dreamcatcher by the windowsill,
White bed sheets shifting ambience,
of decaying truth before the dawn.
As I’m waiting for my father’s soul to visit,
My forehead is the playground
for the monarch butterfly; those kisses
dictating, bitterness, and sweet
in between nostrils,
Stay if you love this place, or wandering‘til your time expires.
Deborah Wong’s poems and short stories have appeared in ditch, Poetry Quarterly, Inwood Indiana Press, Anak Sastra, Red Fez, Mad Swirl, Banana Writers, Vox Poetica, Eastlit, The Tower Journal, Crack The Spine, Streetcake Magazine, The Stray Branch, East Jasmine Review, Eksentrika and elsewhere. I review poetry submissions for Eastlit and the founder/editor-in-chief of ZiggyZag Arms Poetry Journal.