on the windowsill where it began - michelle park
I awake to the sound of rain pounding
and the smell of burnt oil smeared
against my window. Outside,
an imperfect shade of ivory seaming across.
Below the window, a small caterpillar crawls
onto the edge, a stain of dust mid-air.
Its fur at a length to shade itself green,
sometimes brown, maybe to blend
with the forest down the street of Seongsu.
They say in three weeks a caterpillar
will turn into a blossoming butterfly,
no exceptions. There are days
when the cocoon will slacken, as wings
emerge, and days when it’ll fly off to sit
onto the same windowsill they began from.
Those days are what mother awaits.
Next time the sun folds below
the ceramic factories of 18-gil,
its wings will be as fragile as glass
and mother will pin herself down
to watch another one blossom.
Michelle Park is a 17 year old junior currently living in the Philippines. Many of her poems are about nature and memories from her childhood. She loves to eat food, and during her free time, she enjoys playing soccer, dancing, and listening to music. Her works have been published or are forthcoming in The Weight Journal, The Rising Phoenix Press, One Art Poetry, and elsewhere.