Fall 2013, Volume 15

Poetry by Carina Yun

Letter For Emily Dickinson

I swing my father’s arm,
            the morning air moisten-
                        ing my long jet-black hair.

I pull out my letter
            tucked inside my orange
                        pea coat and rashly drop

my father’s hand, hover
            over the sweaty mail-
                        box, press my lips, sway my

heels, pull back the wet damp
            lever, pull hard, and slip
                        in my kiss. And this is

what I want to remem-
            ber: the lever swinging
                        back, a thump, and the reach-

ing for my father’s hand,
            the city fog cover-
                        ing the better of us.

 

 

 

BIO: Carina Yun was born in San Francisco, California. Her poems have appeared or is forthcoming at Fourteen Hills, Folio, Poet Lore, The Northern Virginia Review, and others. She works for the federal government and studies poetry at George Mason University.