My grandma was lying in bed
She was only skin and bone,
and could not even swallow rice porridge,
but she kept reminding me
to go and water the Chinese cabbages
in the corner of the garden
She was getting worse day by day,
while the cabbages she planted grew nicer and taller.
By the day of my grandma’s funeral
the Chinese cabbages in the garden
had grown to a rabbit’s height
She would be buried in the corner where the cabbages were
I had to pull them up one by one,
holding back my tears
About the Author
Wei Zheng, born in Jinzhou City, Hubei province, China, in March 1977, He began to write poems at the innocent age of fourteen. He is an English teacher. His poems appear in a variety of print or on-line Chinese journals, including Poetry Journal, Poetry Exploration, Stars Poetry Journal,etc.