By Zhihua Wang
1
It’s October now,
I am still listening to the song
“Beautiful Springtime.”
It seems the spring
of 2020 never came.
2
The moon must love
my daughter’s window
more as it often has songs
flying out of it.
3
I am in love with my bed now.
Every time I lie on my pillow,
wrapped in my comforter,
I think of him.
4
Poems are flowers
I pick on my road.
I pack them well to send out –
when they open them, I hope
the fragrance is still there.
5
I used to believe the majority
of the world thinks the same
as me. Now I know it’s only
half. But I should still cheer
even if the win is by a hair.
Zhihua Wang received her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Central Arkansas and is currently a Ph.D. student in Creative Writing at the University of Rhode Island. Her poems have appeared in Aji, Last Leaves, Across the Margin, Eunoia Review, and elsewhere.
Photo credit: Alessandro Giangiulio via a Creative Commons license.
A note from Writers Resist
Thank you for reading! If you appreciate creative resistance and would like to support it, you can make a small, medium or large donation to Writers Resist from our Give a Sawbuck page.