ends of the line
(a pantoum after Thu Uyên and Dewi)
last stop, just me and an old Chinese lady:
if i turn my head this way, angling just right
a girl running from her wedding out to the sea
peers from the dirty window, reflecting in the light
if i turn my head. This way, angling just right,
she might see my gaze: a phantom in her shading,
peers from the dirty window. Reflecting in the light,
memories slipping past. Her years have been fading;
she might see my gaze: a phantom in her, fading
golden skin and sun beamed cheeks,
memories slipping. Past, her years have been. Fading
almond eyes favored the sleek
golden skin and sun beamed cheeks
glowing. In summerʻs waning light,
almond eyes favored the sleek
until autumnʻs coming into sight,
glowing. In summerʻs waning light,
a girl running from her wedding out to the sea
until autumnʻs coming: into sight,
last stop. just me and an old chinese lady.
This poem is part of the Passing Pantoums project on Chalkboard. I borrowed a pair of lines from each of these pantoums:
