This Year, Just Wait.
By: Caroline Jung
when you live in diaspora
lights turn on when turned off
day equals night;
today is yesterday and tomorrow.
holidays are spent with
no one or
one person or
immediate families.
if you want to see family,
if you want to hear family,
if you want to be with family,
you pay.
usually detached;
the globe spans 24,901 miles
and the other side brings comfort
but how often can you walk there?
yet some argue
a couple months last longer than
five years
decades
they can’t wait a little
but we’ve been waiting our whole lives.
why must we suffer
and see the cases rise from their hands?
This poem is based on Thanksgiving and how some extended families are traveling despite COVID-19 concerns. As someone who hasn’t seen extended family for a couple years, I’ve continually been struck this year that people don’t realize that not being able to see family is daily life for people in diaspora. It hurts seeing people travel and expose others to the virus because they can’t handle a couple months without seeing extended family when I have stayed at home this year and haven’t seen my extended family.