A Rope Necklace

This mood had better be for the lack

of light from that crescent moon,

shadow pitched down on it, afraid it’ll cover up

this maple, where I lay strung;

bony branches black against the sky,

some droop sideways it's

sap bleeding out in chunks,

their support from the thin bark, swaying

in the wind. It may look like it’s on the verge

of parting, but who’s there to blame when it’s

fighting a lone fight, a lost fight.

Will anyone come to this maple, where

he called his loved one to run, so that

both could be free? A long howl from

a wild dog, somewhere beyond the shadows,

the tune like silver without shine— then a high

pitch mimic of that howl of a mockingjay shakes

grains off soil. Before it flies away, it sings a tune

where misery rings its throat, and bristles the spines

of the wild dog themselves

wear a rope necklace, side by side with me.

Wonjun Na is a 14 year old boy living in South Korea, he has been writing for a few years, and has published to hot pot magazine. In his free time he likes to play baseball and soccer with his friends.