City boy
razes this town
with blazing voice,
burns down this house
with scorching blows;
all eyes ignorant,
all doors shut
to this catastrophic mess
of mangled limbs and
wounded heart.
Conqueror man
leaves this village girl
to wither in this winter cold,
to work into the ground
these delicate hands,
these thin bamboo hands
grown from rich earth
and poor womb –
But these
farm girl’s hands
are also strong hands,
and this farm girl’s heart,
still a beating heart.
And through the
thawing snow,
two working hands
and a body crawling up
from beneath the grey winter,
the whistling of the wind
through bamboo grove:
the song
that city boy thought
he could bury.
Do Nguyen Mai is a history and journalism student living in the Los Angeles area who aspires to, in the near future, continue her studies in Virginia or DC. Aside from writing, Mai loves to spend her time researching the lives of ancient warrior queens, teaching Vietnamese to small children, and playing League of Legends.
