He's Moving Away
It feels like just yesterday when I walked the streets of Chinatown with my dad
on the phone with my half-brother
holding back a flickering smile.
Just yesterday when I found out that he would be a staircase up
not miles away.
He felt like family
maybe it didn't seem like it to me before
as a child, I thought of him as a friend.
But coming downstairs for my mother's kalbi stew
and clearing out a box of pastries from the market
made me feel less like a lonely child.
COVID-19 surging outside our windows.
We pack up our things and cram ourselves in an RV full of dogs.
Heading to the village holding all our happy memories
Cold Springs in the late summer.
My video camera always in my hand
we spend three days
having the time of our lives
and lots and lots of shopping.
Even in San Francisco
we melted on hot days
no air conditioners
all crowded on our floor level with a blasting fan
discussing our lives around the dinner table.
Change has robbed us of those moments.
He's happy, though
we visit his apartment
empty and barren
almost speaking to us
"a brand new start."
and even though he isn't upstairs
to taste my cookies
to bump into in the mornings
or snore above me
I wouldn't say change is sinister
I've learned that from him
to not let time take hold of me
and let it slip past me.
It feels like just yesterday
when I heard the beep of his white Honda
waking up all the dogs
coming home to us.