as a child by the river i’d sit
watching birds and tin cans
faded reds with silver coca cola brand
the Vietnamese grandpas were fishing

for hours studying the leaves
grownups  brawling and guzzling their beer
speaking of politics and the cost of living
the Vietnamese grandpas were fishing

and my innocence of mind would cause a wonder
did the birds have veins like my tree leaves had tucked away between the feathers on their wings
the Vietnamese grandpas were fishing

and when the time came to leave my clan i headed to a school
and i studied nature in a most unnatural of states
when i began to see it all the universe like the light of day
the leaves the birds the skies stars and twigs
they all had veins like the ones i saw
as i received smiling foreign words pats on head and soda cans
down by that river bed
from the Vietnamese grandpas who were fishing