Fantasy Magical Realism poetry


By Hal Y. Zhang
Mar 7, 2019 · 99 words · 1 minute

Dry me Sun, the water was cold!

Photo by Zoltan Tasi via Unsplash.

From the author: My first published poem. Food, reincarnation, mothers and daughters.

I am thankful to not be a fish
          again in this life.

When I see a restaurant tank
my jaws swell in remembrance
gulp ice water like air

It could be worse, my dear
my mother’s port-wine birthmark
ripples around her neck
as she waves her fork
She does not eat beef.

My daughter is inside me,
the size of a peach.
At night we dream of falling.

It is not to be feared
because her wings
beat us aloft, one-two
as we step down from the sky.

Was I delicious,
she asks as we pluck
          cloves from her hair and skin.


This story originally appeared in Uncanny Magazine.

Hal Y. Zhang

Hal Y. Zhang writes science, fiction, and science fiction, in no particular order.