Many mornings
When there wasn’t a shinny sun,
You stood still
To sing songs
About birch tree buds.
And the puzzle of morning beams
Outside the blink
You illuminated,
But you couldn’t even sing for
Whom you loved.
For before the beginning of your songs
You haven’t decided my being.
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About the Author
Author: Ann Huang
Country of residence: United States of America
Nationality: American
Mother tongues: Chinese, Spanish
Ann Huang was born in Mainland China and raised in Mexico. World literature and theatrical performances became dominating forces during her linguistic training at various educational institutions. Huang possesses a unique global perspective on the past, present and future of Latin America, the United States and China. She is an MFA candidate from the Vermont College of Fine Arts and has authored three poetry collections. For more information, visit http://annhuang.com
