I’m not going to tell you how I ended up in the Menomonee River
and seeped the water with sediment until no plants grew.
When the current ran ten feet a minute, fast as sturgeon.
There was time when I was a dandelion seed
and the wind carried me, free and far. Past Three Bridges Park,
when I landed the days of being careless lessened. There were days
when the sun shined and nurtured me. But rain and hail persisted
threatening my existence. Another day goes by.
Eventually I unfurl and find the need
to stay rooted. Polar vortex snow hugs me in its frigidness.
I have my parents’ blessings, but it dwindles every day.
I can’t tell you how I escaped the grasps of grief. However, one day
I met a squirrel in its cheek. Close to death, but stashed me in its nest
And above the ground, I fell and floated like I did before. I became myself again.
Although most of me were still roots, dangling in the air.
What did I have to lose after losing my fellow dandelions to coughs and short breaths?
Alone I fell into the basin below
Like a fry being released into the watershed, the river became my home.
However, I didn’t become some salmon. I sunk to the bottom and corroded.
A rock sits at the bottom of the ever-flowing cycle. Stubborn but stronger.
Kia Vang is a graduate student studying English. As a Hmong American born and raised in Milwaukee, Kia’s experiences merged with her work as education coordinator at Milwaukee Riverkeeper, a local environmental justice organization. This is her creative metaphor of local history in which everyone here has some relevance to.
Carter W. Johnson, River, Minnesota Digital Library, http://explore.digitalsd.org/cdm/ref/collection/carterjohnson/id/2001