Where I’m From: A Poem

Volume 19: Issue 2

I am from stone hotpots with trickled back steams

from ethanol and red chili paste.

I am from a place where every story 

shares a lantern’s reflection upon descending soils.

(Ambient, flickering, 

congested with rust-colored stains and bird’s white waste.)

I am from swaying palm trees,

resonating with my ability to adapt on my own. 

I’m from afternoon tea sessions and contact lenses

from Kenneth and a million Lee’s 

I’m from seaweed soup on birthdays and political discussions

from “Dream high!” and “Cry low!”

I’m from required prayers and the hums of harmonized Hallelujahs.

I’m from the southern region, divided by two political ideologies

acceptance versus traditionalism,

the Doh family’s necessary additions of kimchi (to every meal)

and Asian pears.

From the life my grandfather left behind 

to escape North Korea,

from my mom’s adaption to a new solo life 

in the US at age seven.

Photo collages lie under the lower-shelf 

of my living room,

connecting generations who never met,

the faces of relatives yet strangers.

I am a part of my family’s history,

known but soon to be forgotten,

seen by my family’s persisting legacy.

Photo Credit: Ryan Doh