We, the Coronado Scribes, consist of both professional and amateur writers. We have in common a desire to learn, by sharing our efforts and listening to other writers. We hold pressure-less sessions every Wednesday, at the Coronado Library conference room, starting at 1:30. Often we have guests who wish to just listen. They are welcome, and so are you.
Each week on eCoronado, we feature a different piece of prose or poetry produced by one of our writers. Please feel free to comment or ask questions in the comment section below.
Holding Hands* 9/12/13
I feel her hand imploring mine
To feel her need for something more,
More then my smile and my gift of a hand to hold.
Mai Lin wanted a mother.
This eight year old, the younger of two sisters,
Eight months in this orphanage,
That bespoke the condition of Vietnam,
At war.
One of twenty in the small house,
The last refuge
For children bereft of family.
Mai Lin, could still smile and hope.
If we hold life beyond our borders as statistics.
It allows for a certain objectivity,
And renders our conclusions opaque.
We just don’t get it!
In war, only fools waste assets on the suffering.
It was Mai Lin’s good fortune to encounter a fool.
On this day she and I interlocked fingers
And we shared.
Her luck extended to adequate food
And confirmation
That she would be adopted by Americans.
Her flight to America was just weeks away.
Long range planning is not the province of eight year olds.
I was real and here now
She climbed into my lap and we were family.
That afternoon was real enough for both of us.
Mai Lin’s flight from Vietnam crashed after take-off.
Neither she nor her sister survived.
Fifty years later, I still replay our tearful parting,
Her beautiful bright brown eyes washed in tears.
© Jerry Greenspan 2013
* This poem is a retelling of a prose work by Doris Bestikof. It happened
