The White Goose

My grandfather was younger than my son

    When he died of an undiagnosed disease

        Somewhere in the Mid-South of China

So we have been told since childhood:

    He did nothing memorable or forgettable

        Left no picture of his or any handwriting

Not even one impression on my father’s senses

    Since he was born after he passed away)

But he had bought a big white goose 

        To protect his infant son in his place

And a single-syllabled family name

Copyrighting every little poem

I have composed

In a foreign tongue

© changming yuan