New Poetry: “Stature” by Albert Hwang
When I was eleven I made a statueof my grandfather. My teachersaid we could pick anyone.Most of the boys picked quarterbacks. I painted his hair whitebecause I didn’t have gray.I asked my teacherhow to do his skin.She said, “Yellowlike you.” I lookedat my own handconfused. How did she knowwhat my last name 黃 meant? Something…
Heavy Feather Review 