Poetry / March 2014 (Issue 23)

The Emptying Room

by Amy Uyematsu

Save a trio of Hiroshige woodblock prints,
the fragile Chinese elm which survives somehow, its small
dark leaves so stark against the white back wall,
the vase with a mythical blue dragon still filled
with naked branches of willow,
and a Korean gong we bought that year we tried
a futon bed with matching pillows and quilt,
the bell’s sweet echo like tiny appeals
for all we leave behind.
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