Dear Child,

Sit with your sadness a little longer.

Let the evening light through the windows.

Fill your room with that which remains hidden.

Feel the shadows lengthen inside you.

by An Xu 5/14-15/20

Dear Fred,

I wish you were here and now

giving us words of comfort

and wisdom but you are gone

even though you are with us

always in the spirit of kindness

always a beautiful day

in the garden of our minds

Thank you for dear childhood songs

reminding us we belong

in our neighborhood of make-believe

by An Xu 4-30-20

Near the end of this doggy life

Energy flickers like candlelight

Wanes with the late winter rains

Transforms after the summer storms

On the stroke of the dogged hand

Now this new song strikes the band

by An Xu 2-24-20

Something biblical has brought the world to its knees.

Something invisible has brought the world to its knees.

Something microcosmic has brought the world to its knees.

Something misunderstood has brought the world to its knees.

Something overlooked has brought the world to its knees.

Something terrifying has brought the world to its knees.

Something unconditional has brought the world to its knees.

by An Xu 4-16-20

Dear Vincent,

I am sorry you feel betrayed.

Is that why you cut your ear?

Thank you for inviting me to stay

with you those two months.

This is, my friend, how I feel

about our unfortunate situation:

We had too many arguments

that were too close for comfort.

We will remain comrades, of course,

and I promise to continue writing to you.

You suffer from quite some nervousness,

but let us agree to disagree about art.

You paint a room of sunflowers,

blues and yellows staining your sleeves.

by An Xu 4-14-20

Dearly Departed,

What am I trying to say?

You are no longer with me.

Your voice has gone away.

Do you now see what I see?

by An Xu 4-7-20

Dear Day Moon,

It was lovely to see you once again.

Thank you for bringing your soft light

from as far as the East is to the West.

We watched this evening’s sunset together.

When I turned back to look at your face,

I thought you changed yet remained the same.

by An Xu 4/5-6/20

Dear Literary Masterpiece,

Sorry I missed yesterday’s meeting.

I was busy being unproductive

by building a car carrier for my son

out of LEGO blocks. A car carrier

is a truck that transports cars

via an open or a closed trailer

with built-in ramps for loading and off-loading.

My son likes to do just that—load and unload

the differently colored cars—and take it all

for a spin around the neighborhood blocks.

It’s so easy to not write one thing down

even when I am at home by myself

enjoying some peace and quiet, let alone

when my three kiddos let loose in the house.

Here’s what I have so far: there’s jumping on the couch

and running around the house and asking

for snacks because who’s hungry already

and then my youngest’s suddenly thirsty

or needs to go pee after holding it

in for so long and wants me to be with him

because there are hair-raising thoughts lurking

in the hallway, especially when the lights

are turned off. So I flip the switch on

and my child’s face gets bigger and brighter

because we build a LEGO cityscape to go

with the traffic jams and flat tires and crashes

that make for a good day of creation and play.

by An Xu 4-3-20

Dear Marvelous Universe,

It’s the first of April.

National Poetry Month

was one of my favorite things

once upon a time in this land.

So what happened to my first love?

Well, she died three years ago.

Not of lupus or alcohol

but of cancer, of course.

There’s no cure for cancer

yet. However, the researchers

are working hard on it. There’s

a lot of money spent in science

and technology because

they say we’re making progress

toward human evolution

and unlocking consciousness

despite evidence otherwise

and vice versa. G. K.

Chesterton preferred paradox

to Walt Whitman’s contradictions.

Meanwhile, my three-year old son,

with great urgency, requests,

“Daddy, refill my water bottle.

Please. I am thirsty.” So I do

rinse and repeat. We wash our hands

religiously. Thank you, Lord,

for this glass of drinking water.

It is empty. It is full.

It is finished. Once again.

by An Xu 4-1-20

Paul had a long night vision of

How the lines blurred and the images beloved

And big time beats us up and beats us down.

Never mind the cartoonish clown

Taking the hits to new world records

As the therapist listens and takes notes of the words—

Sad stories as they always sound—

Meaning more or less at the ones lost and found

Arguing about this is my right and that is your wrong.

God knows it’s all too human the song

Of songs turning into a broken old

Record label of history and fantasy sold

In highly digestible form

As a classic case of coldness versus warmth.

by An Xu 3-31-20