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.