WHEN I LOOK AT THE SQUIRRELS

When I look at the squirrels 
I will see 
My father’s face. I will tell them to store up 
Their acorns not only for the winter
But also for spring, summer, and autumn.
They will share their gathering with me
As I make my way back to South Korea
To make some acorn jelly to consume
Only for it to spill out from my belly
And onto the freshly sanded brick streets
Of our restored neighborhood. I will take
A walk through the ginkgo trees and step
On their droppings, hoping the vomit stench
Will rise into my nostrils and wake me up
So that I can cry. No one is here to give me
Any wisdom. I am no longer young.
Nor am I old. It is my fourteenth year
In SoKo. I am trying so hard not to fail
But to make my life without parents. 
Let me have a momma hug one last time. 
I know too much of mortality, but 
I am no longer afraid of this present.
You have left me hanging from trees
Dripping with Spanish moss as I look
Out toward the Mississippi River. 
I am empty, and my heart is tamed. 

I want to be wild again. 

Lee Ann Price is a poet and EFL teacher living in Daejeon, South Korea. Rooted in the forest above the bayous of Louisiana, her writing explores liminality, emotional estrangement, and the quiet tension between absence and presence. She often blends formal precision with experimental textures to navigate memory, place, and silence. Her current work draws on Louisiana landscapes, lore, and liminality to create reflective interior geographies. She currently teaches elementary and middle school students and is completing her MFA in Poetry at Western Colorado University. Her poems seek to listen as much as speak and offer a still, listening space within the noise.