Friday Poem

All years come to an end. What then? —Toshi Suzuki

Since Anchoring to the San Francisco Dock, 1945

Before lifted
onto a gurney,
folded into plastic,
& zipped in a bag,
my grandpa says
his goodbyes
in Tagalog
8,000 miles
from where his brother
is a banana leaf
or sampaguita
or whatever
he became
of earth after
the imperial army
invaded.

by Troy Osaki
from
Pank Magazine