Author: Tran Tran

Con cò mà đi ăn đêm**  Đậu phải cành mềm, lộn cổ xuống ao ***  Night darkens on an egret’s porcelain wings. A lullaby begins and ends with silence.     Mother’s love begins and ends with silence.    A branch snaps. The egret tumbles into death.  A bomb blasted. My mother tumbled into orphanhood. What’s unsung: the baby egret’s     hunger—orphaned…