With a concept from kiki_poetry, I am using a line of poetry from an Asian-American or Pacific Islander poet in honor of AAPI Heritage Month.

This line comes from a poem by Hieu Minh Nguyen, “The Study”.  As per kiki_poetry’s instructions, I will italicize the line from “The Study”.

I took up many hobbies that year.
I suppose many people did.
I know of people who began baking
out of boredom.
Some started playing word puzzles.
Others, in their isolation, turned toward
the solace of family and friends,
but
when I think of that year,
no one has a face.
I went to school and came home.
The only ones I remember truly
are the ones that really mattered.
The ones that I saw every day.
The open faces who taught me the things
I needed to know
and the ones I loved.
But most were a phantom.
Just strangers posing as friends.
Colleagues pretending to be more.
And those I passed in hallways
who now are nothing more than whispers.
These were voices
but are now forgotten.
Faces
now anonymous collages.
Something I thought I built
now collapsed.
It was a year of hard work with nothing
to show for except a piece of paper
buried underneath a pile of books.
Nothing more to show for except
a pile of names like obituaries
and memorials of the dead
in a year of a pandemic.

Isabelle Palerma