(After Li-Young Lee’s “A Story”)


I ask my father
to tell me the story of how 

he left home to work on his first motion picture, The Wild Racers.


The film wrapped. His visa expired, but he remained
by faking a British accent and taking a job under the table
as a hotel bellhop in Chelsea. This was the 60s. He was 26. 


He had to return home eventually. Each time he tells it
the hues of the details change, like the color of his uniform, or the way
he pronounces the vowels in that actress’s name, but never
the end: “I was the poorest and happiest I’ve ever been.”

I ask him to tell me again and again, to return to this man I wished
I could have met, to give him back to himself. Everything
else has already been given. He reaches
for my hand and I help him
get up from his chair.

Sarah Haufrect earned her MFA from OTIS College of Art and Design in Los Angeles and her B.A. in English from UC Berkeley. Her poems have appeared in the Berkeley Poetry Review, Medusa’s Laugh, and PEN Oakland OutLoud among others.