Halmoni

Bo Schwabacher

 

Facing the East, my halmoni
and omma, knew the ancestral

rites that feed the future,
how to let me go.  My halmoni

may not speak Korean either. 
My halmoni may be alive.  I felt

each minute—a young girl smiles
back at her captor.  Unsafe inside

my omma (her frame small), everything
showing—hills of green tea, rain

dissipating a stuffy summer—two
separate loves should have been:

Daddy/my romantic partner/night
and death sound similar in Japanese. 

In my family, the women couldn’t afford
a dish from Japan, now popular

in our hometown—dried in the wind
from the sea,  gulbi is dunked in green tea

water, borigulbi is said to “restore
the appetite.”  A captor is someone

who forces his will on you,
and you accept each violation

because your life depends on it.

 

Bo Schwabacher is an adoptee from South Korea. Her poems have appeared in CutBank, Radar, Redivider, the Offing, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and elsewhere.

 

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