Hsiao-Shih (Raechel) Lee


On The Edge of White
an adaptation of Lu Ping’s “Colors”

She said the color of snow

is like baby’s breath.


The color of baby’s breath

is that of a Chinese funeral.


The color of funeral

like a cold spring


gushes, and the watery voice

of early spring comes down


in threads of rain from the space

between stars.


The color of Sirius is the same as

a cinder, sparked from grilled salmon


that swam the Pacific.

Behind the Pacific is Alaska,


the permafrost stoic

under the midnight sun.


The sun is colored like honey

for mint tea in Morocco, where waves


are dried into salt.

past simple home