but whatever is rising
the wind, a song
water from a wellspring
The many, the divisible
at the together
like you, I
double-edged blades of grass
sharpening, the air in January
steam exhaled by city streets
and the warm loaf of bread in your hands
Meanwhile
a hard, killing frost
plums discarded
yellowgage, black damson, redheart
their skins bursting
dripping
Justice
didn’t care
nor
the sweet
I refuse
the precarity of the line
Such indifference
Hold, hold instead tenderness
the Furies
dear lost ones
your many names
in my mouth
all I want
clarity, a sword of winter light
the many, undivided
our voices keen
Not This
Hyejung Kook’s poetry has most recently appeared or is forthcoming in The
Massachusetts Review, Hyphen Magazine, Pleiades, Prairie Schooner, The
Indianapolis Review, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and wildness.