Erica Hu is a lovely poet who presents in-depth storytelling, vivid imagery, and bold phrasing in her work. I have been reading her for quite some time on Medium and was excited to receive an email from her to become a part of the A Cornered Gurl team. She graced us with an awesome debut poem in October, however, this poem below is the one I want to feature. The tone of it is inviting and is a reflection of the author speaking of her grandfather. In short, it’ll pull at your heartstrings. And now, the featured poem, Old Radio.
Old Radio
for my yéyé (grandpa)
“When the old radio stopped working,
no one knew what to do.”
“And that’s okay,” he says,
“with half a pint of whisky,
I can be on my way.”
Wrinkles on his hand
grow like wild ivy on brownstone.
So at the age of eight,
I started practicing farewell.
Fearing the loss of recognition,
I take pictures of his green vest,
tai-chi shirt,
birthday cakes,
praying
he stays the same.
But now,
on the westward train,
I’ve lost my mind
thinking about returning
to a place with light
but no truth
and how time is an open wound
that neither festers nor heals.
“It’s not that bad,”
he says,
“after I close my eyes,
at least,
for the first time,
there’s no need to worry about dinner tomorrow.”
Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.
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