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
of augurs.

hovering nearby, why I heard
                        The ultraviolet

                    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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