Black Silk Scarf Poem by Louise Marie DelSanto

Once arrived from Beijing,
My mother and sister approach me,
heavy tweed sweaters wrapped around
their shoulders,
the weight of a past life behind them
They hand me a black silk scarf for my head and help me
board the train.

Chinese businessmen turn on their computers and tap the
keyboards. Families sit in rows of twos. Their babies
held close in their arms. Mothers whisper about the journey.

My sister smiles at me. 'We have missed you.' she tells me.
My mother serves me a sweet drink of hot tea and moon cakes
Outside the windows I am watching the whiz of women on
bicycles and little children walking hand in hand.
The countryside is still cold and pale and barren.

An innocent memory of my childhood and I am whisked
to where my father appears in the distance,
the ball of sun sloping down below the pink-hued
horizon
And my father is welcoming me.