Hmong Knives
by Pegi Dietz Shea
(in Ban Vinai refugee camp, 1989)
Away from the depression
of farmers with nowhere to farm,
we begin to hear percussion—
metal on metal.
The nearer I get, the more
sound waves concuss
in my gut, jar my jaw.
Around a bend, there it is:
a forge, fanned by great fronds,
shaded by a bamboo roof.
In the darkness, two orange glows—
two Hmong men,
in black pants, blue shirts,
brimmed leather hats,
work sweat-free in the inferno.
The first poundings shake the ground
but here, a second hit, a bounce,
a playful ping—the smiths’ reward
for swinging the hammer so high
and bringing it down so true
upon its red-hot mate
on the anvil.
Proudly, the men carry
over their wares—
knives engraved
with flowers and scrolls,
swirls and stars.
The bamboo sheaths
wear braided reeds;
hilts are carved from bone.
I’m told to bargain in Thai,
so the men will respect me.
Still, my one hand holds guilt,
while the other hands over
a few dollars-worth of baht.
The smiths smile for pictures,
then I bow and thank them,
“Kawp kum kha.”
As we walk away, I know
that every time I mince
ginger and lemon grass,
the blade sliding smooth
as a snake in water,
and every time I light the fire
under my cast-iron wok,
I will see the Hmong men
and their mettles
glowing in the blackness,
feel the resounding
music of their labor
lilting in the leaves.
Café Campana
by Pegi Dietz Shea
(In Musee d’Orsay, a former train station in Paris)
A path of glass blocks
beckons me
to the café:
Come, sit, reflect.
Indeed, the hands
of the grand horloge
in the window say
I’ve been hurtling
through history
for several hours.
I sip wine near
a watery wall
refracting fellow seekers.
Silverware, glassware
clink like train wheels
cycling from the gare.
Above me, steel arches
frame absinthe clouds, racing
beyond the glass ceiling.
Golden bolts and braces
make connections
between past
and future hues.
There is no present;
light refuses to hold a pose.
Before me, a girl hops
on the glass blocks,
avoiding the cracks,
switching gears,
gaining speed
right on schedule for
now.
Beneath me, four floors
of students streaming,
scholars preening,
tourists trailing docents.
Teens—raging locomotives—
stray from their tracks,
sneak kisses, snap selfies.
We are all
on exhibit
at some point
in time.
Two-time winner of the Connecticut Book Award, Pegi Deitz Shea is the author of more than 400 published articles, essays, and poems for adult readers. Her works for young readers (poetry, fiction and nonfiction picture books, as well as novels) frequently focus on human rights issues. Her poetry for adults has appeared in The Christian Science Monitor, Tunxis Poetry Review and other journals. She teaches in the Creative Writing programs at the University of Connecticut and at the Mark Twain House in Hartford.
For more, find her at www.pegideitzshea.com.
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