Day 117 – Mochi

Sunday, December 26, 2010
Day 117
10:40 pm


Grandpa leaned down
In front of me during
Mochitsuki in the middle
Of the nursery, face wrinkled,
Stubbled and proud of the
Piece of mochi he revealed
To me, tiny and warm, in the
Middle of his hand

Suddenly everything vanished,
The big rice machine, the scent
Of shoyu, even my childish fear
Of grandpa, all that existed was
A floating ball of mochi and a big
Grin in the background

No one was watching, so he let
Me eat it, carefully, small bites,
One after the other, until it was
Completely gone, with only the
Mochiko around my mouth on
My puffy cheeks to reveal
Our secret

By then, no one cared I had eaten
One out of turn, as I guess that’s
What grandfathers and
Grandchildren get to do, help
Each other with the morsels we
Keep in the middle of our bellies,
Where our hearts thrive, as we age



About traciakemi

traci akemi kato-kiriyama - inter/multi-disciplinary theatre/performance artist, arts educator, cultural worker, community organizer. Tuesday Night Project; theatre, performance, writing, and teaching projects with many organizations and artists including: zero 3; Edge of The World for Asian Arts Initiative in Philadelphia and the National Asian American Theatre Festival in New York; "PULL" with Kennedy Kabasares in San Francisco; Nobuko Miyamoto and Great Leap Collaboratory I; TeAda; NCRR; Oymun's 11. Playwright for "Chasing Dad - a performance of a reading about a play i'm writing" presented by Inside the Ford for the Ford's Summer Playwright series. View all posts by traciakemi

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