Angeline Yap (b. 1959)
SELECTED POEMS
Mushrooms
(i)
Always, it would be
only the very best for this meal.I watch Mother pick mushrooms
—dried shiitakes for the New Year meal—
each one with its rim unbroken,
each one perfectly round.“See, they must be creamy white—
Brown like this, don’t take—not fresh.See, they must be round, like this one—
so the family will have harmony.See, the flesh must be thick,
And the pattern must be pretty.”(ii)
I remember another time, when we were moving house.
Mother said, “Very first thing, you move the rice bin in
— make sure to fill it all the way to the top
— so that you will always have enough to eat.”This has always been the way of my people.
So the very first thing I brought into my new home
was a really, really full rice bin,
with my bible sitting on its lid.
And as that bible taught, I honoured my Mother,
who wanted for us children, only good things;
whose wish echoed my Heavenly Father’s promise
of good measure, shaken together,
pressed down, and overflowing.(iii)
Today, I look at the mushrooms I have picked
for the New Year meal
— each one patterned like a tortoise shell
— each one thick and round,
perfectly formed, completely whole.
by Angeline Yap
from CAP 30th Anniversary Publication (2020)
