Chinese Ancestral Altar
A Poem for Lai-Wing Leung
By Wendy McMullen
I put on your Chinese Ancestral Altar,
The blue, ornate Chinese Silk Tapestry,
Your ancestral photos from Canton, China 1936
And Hong Kong 1952.
I put on the altar,
A strand of Buddhist Prayer Beads
A lock of your hair,
A hand-print taken after your death.
I put on your Chinese Ancestral Altar
Your Grandmother’s teapot & teacups
That you used, when making me tea.
And your favorite hand-blown whiskey glass.
I put on the altar
A photo of your Grandfather; the one
I always dreamt about, with you as a
One year old safely on his lap,
Your Trader Joe’s Lai-Wing Name Tag,
that you were wearing
The First Day I met you,
and the Last Day I saw you.
I put on your Chinese Ancestral Altar
Your green cloth bracelet,
that still smells of your skin;
Your green Chinese People's Liberation Cap
With the Red Star;
Worn in our last picture together.
I put on your Altar
Some semi-precious stones that you
Mined yourself,
A feather, a shell, that you found for me.
A porcelain dragon, because you were
Born the Year of the Dragon
I placed on the Altar;
Your eyeglasses;
So much apart of you identity.
Held as police evidence for
the investigation into
your death.
And then…… Last Night
I put on your Chinese Ancestral Altar,
A small, green ceramic urn,
holding some of your ashes.
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