On my omma’s death day,
I forgo the forbidden:

peaches, garlic, red spice—
food that chase

away spirits. Instead,
there is dduk guk (떡국)

and namul (나물),
a handful of prairie lilies

and rain lilies that remind me
of a white summer dress

and where I am—this country
is beautiful, star violet, silver

sage, rabbit tobacco, sweet
pea, yellow water lily, miguk (미국)—

I’m talking to her at night,
the earliest hour of her death.

The prey outwits
the predator by seeing

the pattern, death & men,
fear & arousal, I bow

deeply twice. When she died,
“How Do You Talk

to An Angel” was the top song,
a whisper of her life, black

seeds in a tiny wildflower.