I’ve Got a Red Eye
I’ve got a
red eye,
Therefore I
sit on the patio,
To release
pressure from reading,
And to enjoy
the late summer green.
The orange
sun is setting in the west,
The black birds
are hovering over their nests.
A frog croaks
a lonely song,
My neighbor
walks her waterdog in sandal thongs.
Everything is
in its usual place,
Including
the two stools standing side by side
Like two
loyal waitresses.
But my
parents are not sitting on the stools,
They are
gone without a trace.
I touch my
right eye.
It is red
with strange white lumps.
I got this
red eye on a trip with my parents,
A sense of
driver’s responsibility drove my eye nuts.
I got a red
eye.
My mother
could not speak to me without a sigh.
She figured
she must always be by my side.
Keeping me from
a disease tide.
So she sat
in my sofa bed,
Sharing with
me thoughts in her head.
I rolled
over to appreciate her profile,
Wishing time
could turn into a copying machine
To keep the
moment on file.
I got a red
eye.
My father found
himself a new job.
He put eye
drops in my eye.
I could see
his wrists throb .
While he was
carrying out his nursing duty,
I smiled
till my face froze,
Wondering if
I could survive in a few days at ten thirty,
When their
farewell arms to me rose.
I sit on the
patio,
Hearing the
bugs chirp,
After the
sun is gone without a trace.
Without a
trace like my parents.
Then I climb
onto a stool,
Remembering
that still
I’ve got a
red eye.
(Cynthia Zhang, written on August 29th, 2009)
