Song of Anna May Wong
And so it came to pass that I carried
a lantern in that first film, uncredited,
the way women were see-through as wind—
orchestrating the flapping of flags, propelling
sails across seas. The way Bits of Life handed
me a baby and husband after years of rice
paper roles to see, finally, my silent name
in print. The way stardom burned
beyond the Hollywood lighthouse, scattering
crushed diamonds, sharp-edged
and glittering in gowns like a well-lit
sea. Beware the siren call of men in suits,
of growing beyond the island that tames
your imported fruit. I was too Chinese
to play a Chinese, too forbidden fruit
to kiss a moon-faced man. But roles
and tides reverse course— so produce
what the heart must and shed the dragon
skin to embrace the pomelo’s yellow.
Sara Lynn Eastler is a poetry editor for Qu Literary Review & freelance contributor to the Southern Review of Books. Find her work: Passengers Journal, Anodyne, Bangalore Review & saralynneastler.com