1:1

Phu Nhuan

Phu Nhuan

His hair shifted as I ran by.
Stay away from him,
mother yelled,
not the first time
she had to part us,
my brother and me,
but the last.
As if ready to do a push-up,
his palms curled,
fingernails to the dirt,
he could have been
getting ready to

Barbara Tran







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© 1991 Asian American Writers' Workshop