Today's poem is by Hyejung Kook
Invention No. 7 in e minor
What time was it? The wind gusted
A moving clock
erratically from the southwest,
runs more slowly
then the northeast.
than a stationary one.
Afterwards, you waved
The wintering birds will flock in
the persistent bluebottle away
strange new patterns,
from your head, drawn by the lingering
smell of star anise.
even to the most skilled
No account for the blackbird
hovering nearby, why I heard
the ticking of the clock
a dying star emits in wave-particles
but could not see it,
can be seen by certain animals
how easily you
but not by you,
dropped my hand
not when the wind drops suddenly,
and stepped away, like this.
not even at a time like this.
Copyright © 2015 Hyejung Kook All rights reserved
from The Carolina Quarterly
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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