by Audrey Fok
Go to sleep now.
Youʼve held heaven and earth apart for long enough:
unearthed men from riverbanks of gold dust &
lifted the sky up by its four corners. It is a rug
at your fingers. You are tugging it back
over the naked land
and it is curling up and over
like dried leaves but
do not worry, do not worry,
even when the lights are all out,
this forest and the echoes can stretch their arms
wide enough to hold all the lonely.
And remember, this is their
house. This is why they have been calling you mother.