an on-line poetry magazine
for the 21st century

COMMEMORATIVE ISSUE SUMMER 2023

Barbara Hoffman

AMERICAN BUDDHA

they left with only what they could carry
they left their farms with rows of strawberries
rows of artichokes lettuce
they left their homes with their shoes outside
on the front steps and the dog in the yard
they left their stores where they sold hardware
they left their stores where they cleaned clothes
they left their restaurants
they left quietly no fuss they did not bow
they did not want to seem Japanese
they did not want to seem subservient
they wanted to seem American
they were American
they were missed by the townspeople
where they had lived
then they weren’t missed by
the townspeople where they had lived
it was as though they had never lived there