![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQuyqE0WUivhOYNWbWM_H3sE1HjtUII9r0OIaU4BqG5rkbweuKLi9DVUF-QlHOCq1knS4rO7d5e8BnNqF8p1Re3gd81HBW5bxE8ND7hYHlIVk1fKpWb4cvVpnnOjJIHShVteHowdn2cA/s400/asian-woman.jpg)
Watercolor by Karen Winters
i hold
i hold
the sound of Dad’s voice on Thursday
morning, when it cracked, spilling the news
subsequent images like routinely-fingered photographs
i hold
distance like a shield, an empty room
each hard-shelled day to my ear, fleeting souvenirs
i hold
memory of your eyes, evidence
of an extraordinary thing, so alive
and oh, how they once held me
i hold
i keep holding
.
Yi-Ching Lin
Posted over on Y's Bits on "Healthy Doses"
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