Three Poems
Peyton Yoo
할머니의 그릇
I am blue like nostalgia
I am bilingual, I am traveled.
I have beheld different forms and impressions
In my time pinched, glazed, and fired.
I have held levels of sophistication;
an inception of dishes;
charred chuck to Cheez-Its
I live to serve.
Peek into me, and find the last morsels
A stew of memories; of time.
Even bathed with scents and spirits
I stink of fermentation and brine
I have heard the hubbub of generations
Just as I have heard the soft singing of my facsimiles
As they have fallen
They have been separated in shape
Now we are separated in space.
My chips too, may fracture me into sharp sand
If that should happen
What will it mean?
Mosaic is the Answer!
I have always been clumsy
I always spill, or dribble, or stain
I am also sentimental
Sometimes I keep trash in my pockets
Just in case I want to scrapbook later
So I find myself conflicted, when I go to reach for one
She never even had a chance to hand one to me
So they aren’t really mine
I’ve never had her kimchi jjigae in one,
I’ve never seen her wash one
I never will
So since I am an imminent danger to most things
Should I even reach for it?
It’s happened before,
Where I lose my grip, and then look down to see the shattered damage I’ve done
And all I can think of is how many years of laughter and good tidings
I have carelessly strewn across the tile
And how I can’t even imagine her disappointed face
And how I don’t even know if she would be disappointed
Would she even know which bowl I’m talking about?
So I should just leave it there, right?
No chances taken?
But things are meant to be used
Isn’t it beautiful that it was loved until it couldn’t be?
Is anything meant to last forever?
Is death not principle completion?
할머니의 그릇 – Shattered
Peyton Yoo is a SAS sophomore majoring in psychology and minoring in creative writing. She will be graduating in the spring of 2027.
Peyton wrote these poems in a course taught by Richard Murray, who selected the piece for inclusion in WHR.