Reconstruction in Minnesota | Bryan Thao Worra
In two years, I don’t believe I’ve said more
Than twelve words to my Khmer neighbors
In the apartment below me.
That’s just the way it is.
The other day, I walked past the grandmother
Trying to talk to her Hmong counterpart
Across the hall.
hesitant and uncertain
had become the bridge as each stood in their doorway
fumbling towards something resembling an ordinary conversation.
Gardening and grandchildren seemed to be the subject.
I still don’t know what to make of it all,
My head heavy as a mango without a mouth to feed . . .