Kevin Minh Allen
Ragtag
the child's cheeks red from crying
streaked from the confusion of miles traveled
wrinkled documents fold hands closed
bend them open again
border official is suspicious
suitcase a bit too heavy
empty out books, coins and hope's worn dishes
framed photos they hold onto, rescue
husband whispers sternly,
"forget the jewelry, the children can eat without it."
Lantern Review: A Journal of Asian American Poetry
Issue 1 | June 2010 | pp 21