And years later
we find ourselves tracing
bits of blue-yellow in our names;

when we are asked,

what is your name
where are you from
who told you to stand so tall –
traces we cannot get rid of;

so when we are given new names
our ears are closed shut;

alien, immigrant,
it was as if they said,
sunflower, sunflower,

why, yes, I am,
and I bloom at my pleasing.

Excerpted from Amber.