First Time Home

Arrive at the airport
To a city called Saigon
Burning air
Crowded, busy
Seven million people did the city hold

Tooting horns filled the polluted air
Handle bar touching handle bar
Bumper to bumper
Watch in amazement as people cross the busy street

Travel on a tiny boat
Sail through the open waters
Coconut trees in sight
Land on an island
Crystal clear waters
White golden sand
No one in sight

Rice field after rice field
Wee grass huts
Wide open plains
Orange-red dirt
Coconut stands dotted along the road
Cross little wooden bridges
Overtake buffalo carts on the country side

Now I have seen my homeland
My homeland called Vietnam

By Anh-Thu Truong