By: John Kearns
For YNG, Chengdu, China
Near a construction site by the river Jin
Not a single visible wave
But as close to the bank
As booming Chengdu permits
A breezy lot of neglected grass
Of rutted earth
Encrusted with fragments
Of cement and bricks and stone
And papers
Whose messages could not be read
An obovoid candle
Chinese red
Impaling a mound
Triads of incense sticks
Planted on thin stems
She crouched by a pyre
Making oblations for her dad
now three weeks dead
In the ruts near the candles
We joined her
Fake bills we peeled in threes
From hefty stacks
And laid in the flames
Smoke closed my eyes
Poked my nostrils
Gagged my throat
Pushed me back
She sniffled
Hope blamed burnt offerings
But nodded to truth
When a tear buckled down her cheek
Then there came a murmur
She was speaking
To her father
In words
that ran like the river we could not see
In characters
that floated with the incense
that wrapped around my neck
And squeezed
My heart now scarred with ruts
My own tears massed
I could not swallow
I could not breathe
I could not speak
Even if there were any words
in any language
For a father taken from his daughter
sudden and too soon
By her quiet unparsed words made
Mute unlettered
A poet with no words
Even to say there are no words
John Kearns is the author of the short-story collection, Dreams and Dull Realities and the novel, The World and playwright of dramas including Sons of Molly Maguire and In the Wilderness. His novel-in-progress, Worlds, was a finalist in the 2002 New Century Writers’ Awards. John’s poems have appeared in such journals as the North American Review and the Grey Sparrow Journal. John is the Treasurer and Salon Producer for Irish American Writers and Artists. He has Masters Degree in Irish Literature from the Catholic University of America.
The Poem from the Poet:
"In 2018 I was in Chengdu in the Sichuan province of China to celebrate Chinese New Year with my wife's family. The father of a good friend of ours had passed away a couple of weeks before our arrival. So, she invited us to take part in a folk tradition that occurs every week for 49 days after an elder relative dies. People burn paper money and make offerings believing that the deceased will receive and put them to use in the afterlife. I did not know this at the time but often messages to the deceased are spoken as well. Our friend does not speak English. I speak a little Chinese but cannot read the characters."
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