Aya

Aya

It’s in the expression,

her giving of rocks,

subtlety;

an unconventional life.

 

She left home;

forgetting the spring roll

for a hamburger

and a diet coke.

 

A projection

of purpose,

and she does what she can

to get by,

perhaps more.

 

Sometimes pickled

always passionate,

of friends

and family,

she plants bamboo

in the front yard

of her American dream.

 

She stands still;

a little more

tortured than most,

a statue

in a strange garden.

 

And she extends her hand,

placing the rocks

in the palms

of a few funny friends.

 

“Comfortable,”

in this place,

Aya now calls home.