Thrice Stolen

This poem was inspired by:

Chinese Hunger for Sons Fuels Boys’ Abductions
By ANDREW JACOBS
Published: April 5, 2009
Parents in eastern industrial areas receive little help in finding their children, whose kidnappings constitute a thriving business.


“Thrice Stolen”

I once lived in China’s Pearl River Delta,
where I must have had a mother who loved me,
a father who was proud of his baby Dragon,
and a sister who could not hold on to me,
as a car snatched me away.

My name was Aiguo, meaning patriotic, and I remember.

My new father and mother were both loving
and proud of their secrete treasure, telling
friends and relatives that I was a gift from heaven
delivered to their step by the hands of the Buddha,
but one day while father was busy with customers,
strong hands lived me away.

My name was Da, meaning strike, and I remember.

My new father and mother were both hard working
types and I was destined to be great, taking over
the family business someday, when the sun and the moon
had traveled the sky the correct number of times,
but one day, the lure of mango and a toy car would
seduce me away.

My name was He, meaning Yellow River, and I remember.