An hour in autumn– alone yet not I saw a stretch of centuries, people, forms I’d been that made me what I am today– sad for what fights to spite death but cannot win pushing against a tide of joy and pain— Listen, the last cicada singing in a twisted pine chanting the past and […]
September rain fresh linen a blanket lain last hours of summer spilling out off the roof gutters autumn takes a breath before winter ice and cold take the hills rip colors from the trees red gold apples barley corn birds soar into the wind remind me we all die regardless how much we lean into […]
There’s a bus to nowhere, somewhere I think is home.
I feel the half moon human mind moving to fullness
clearly asking, “Will you stay with the solemn monks
Or return to the maddening city life of hell in Seoul?”
There’s a method in the music, the buzz Filling the trees, a sizzle, a scream The clicking and the ringing of cicadas. Where some leave off, others pick up The cantos of love, a hum like a dream That is all of summer and seventeen years: “Here, here, I’m the one, I’m the best, Here, […]
It would be a lie to say I have no sorrow for the dead I sing to them To steady heart and head. Sorrow, a boy forsaken Sleeps no doubt In the quiet of my bed He cannot be mistaken. Rising to the early light To torpor I awaken, I care for him His Sadness […]