Mother Tongue
By Kady Le
“Teach me some words in your language”
He asked
My language?
Oh, you mean English, right?
“Oh I’m so sorry.
“I assumed you spoke a second language.”
I used to.
I used to speak a language
That graced the coasts of the Mekong Delta.
A language harsh in Dad’s pitch
But soft and beautiful in Mother’s lullaby.
A language that helped my mother
Find my father
In the wastelands of the midwest
But she was snickered at in ESL class
Because her English was not the best.
Why my English is so good
Is like the journey from the Fall
Except instead of seeing Saigon collapse
I felt myself fall
Out of touch with my mother
And her first way of tongue
Now I have no accent
Yet you still ask how
My English is so good