Monday, August 1, 2011

1.3 The Rescue

After being stranded for days at sea,
a fishing boat came to our rescue.
While leaping over from the rusty old ship,
To the fishing boat, I slipped,
And fell into the ocean.

I could hear my father screaming
frantically in vain.
Fortunately, 
one of the younger fishermen dived
Into the ocean.
Grabbed me,
And I was rescued,
Safe and sound.

In return for saving us from death at sea,
We were to surrender all our belongings.
My father and uncle,
Had already foreseen such a risk,
And had gold leaves and threads sewn,
Into the hems of our sleeves,
Into and around our shirts.

Finally, we were brought to land,
They brought us to a camp.
This was an interment camp,
For refugees like us.
I remembered a logo,
Of a globe,
With two hands holding a globe.
It was the logo of the United Nation refugee agency.

Every morning,
Father would bring me to line up for milk.
He would have his morning conversation,
With a Vietnamese lady,
And I would give her the evil eye,
hoping she would stay away.

Each night, I would ask him,
Where's mother?
When am I going to see her?

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