2 Poems  

by Cyril Wong  


the flat this evening, 
    something strange happened;

the veranda became a veranda,
    the yellow lamp on the wall 

a yellow lamp on the wall,
    the mat on the floor turned red 

instead of its present blue,
    the woman who looked up

from the shelf of potted plants -
    now a shelf of mangled bonsai -

became a woman with subtler lines
    underneath her eyes, speaking,

as she had once spoken,
    'Never forget.' I nodded,

as I had always nodded.
    'I won't.' But that was then.

Cyril Wong is the author of Squatting Quietly and The End Of His Orbit, both published in Singapore. He is currently pursuing my honours in literature at the National University of Singapore.

Contact Cyril Wong at: cyrilwong@angelfire.com

March 28, 2002
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