when we gathered around the kitchen table,
holding hands as my mother said grace,
the clatter of plates rang like beating drums
while the dumplings cracked like fireworks
on the frying pan. our voices were keys of a
piano. every conversation played in my
ears as a melodic tune. blinded by rising
steam and golden, glimmering sunlight
peeking through the windows, all i sensed
was laughter. chuckles were strings on a
violin as we sang the same song. i realized
i no longer feared forever, rather, the end.
i yearned for time to slow as the voices of
my siblings rang like church bells through
my ears. i muttered a “thank you” to
whoever watched over us, as this joy could
be the work of no less than divine powers.
About the Author
Grace Lee, a high school student in Seoul, South Korea, is passionate about words. Whether crafting stories or poems, she blends her unique perspective with the vibrant culture of Seoul. She has explored her passion for creative writing at the Kenyon Review Young Writers Workshop and Juniper Young Writers Online. Excited to contribute to the literary landscape, Grace’s writing reflects the universal themes of adolescence in a big city.
