By Emma Miao
after “靜夜思” by Li Bai
床前明月光
Moonlight falls before the bed
疑是地上霜
Like frost on the frozen ground.
举头望明月
Look up at the bright moon,
低头思故乡。
Look down, think of home.
1.
the moon falls / like ice. / the moon stands
on the bed / breaks / into so many other
moons. / & fingers. / the night, slashing open //
the day I left // the frost. /
& the whiplashed bones / of the
roadstruck deer
2.
the sky / is a bruise / swallowing
me whole / this house / means a
child, laughing in mama’s arms // means
what is the moon / if not my body //
& the deer / stared me in the mouth /
four years / skidding on the midnight
road / & the eyes / saying turn back /
carve up the bed & grieve
3.
Snow falls on the snowy moon. Look up, child.
Home is some unreachable thing.
Emma Miao is a poet from Vancouver, BC. Her poems are published in Atlanta Review, Permafrost Magazine, Frontier Poetry and Quarterly West. She is the winner of the 2021 Cincinnati Review Schiff Award for Poetry and The Fiddlehead's 2020 Ralph Gustafson Prize for Poetry. She hopes you have a wonderful day.