“things you left behind” by Mihan Han1 min read

1 comment

Photo: Ryan Kwok

a hospital bed steeped in

ammonia currents of

stale urine


a tube of canesten straddling

the commode atop

a stack of unused diapers


fruit flies metastasizing from

browning bananas to

a half-empty bottle of lactulose


a walker curled like oriental

calligraphy against the couch in

a living room unreachable as China


a parchment of dust covering

Mahjong tiles, precious as tiger

bones, portending your fate


ghosts keening behind

glass walls, guarded by Buddha and

a jade elephant


the communists who seized

your property, leaving behind

rations of rice and flour, and

a little red book, to feed

3 hungry mouths


tobacco-stained fingers moulding

pork and chive

dumplings pregnant as

unspoken words of love


Mihan Han was born in Mudanjiang, China. He currently resides in Toronto, Ontario. His poetry has previously been published in Ars Medica and Modern Haiku.

1 comment

Bonnie Sheppard 1 December, 2022 - 9:03 am

Thank you for this clear, piercing poem. May you continue to create these indelible indeed searing images.


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