The light of a place (dawn)
…Whatever place I visit has its own specific light.
Jeju’s light | is an aside | a confirmation of
the usual mask the weather wears
—marginalia of the wind & wet’s intent
that makes the grass still grow in cold
& vines tighten around the trunks of trees.
Seoul’s light is audible | like
the tintinnabulation of church bells—it never ends
& with it comes dead lawns
& fruitless trees through long sub-zero winters.
“Does the sea alter the sky |
or the sky the sea” I remember asking my father
when we came to Jeju
on holiday when I was a kid.
I wish I could remember his reply
—something precise | photo-synthetic.
The turbid smog that smothers Seoul
or even Jeju makes your nose itch.
The world shrinks when the eye
cannot push past its density
—just like I cannot see my future
for the polluted air of my marriage…