seyoung kwon
It was their last day in Seoul together. Summer had just
started and one afternoon, she wore a blindfold,
leaning her body on his shoulder. His moist palms
and shaking fingers took it off her.
Two carrot and shamrock swings they used to call
the orange one and the cucumber one, and
climb, jump and hang on for two years, this playground
in front of the Yeokchon-dong Office where they learned
how to ride the “viking”, spending three hours
everyday until the silver moon spotlighted their way home.
The magnolia tree snowed its white petals as confettis,
wiping out the shadows on their faces. They sang together,
Memories of two years was screened and the sun was setting,
melting the blue sky into red as their cheeks bloomed.
Fire on two candles mirrored a wedge of the cheesecake,
Waiting for the lovers to realize that
There was only one sky they swung towards
though they lived apart.
***
Seyoung Kwon loves to fly kites on windy days and in summer, she spends time eating ice cream outdoors, especially in the park while walking her Pomeranian named Hodu. She enjoys writing in her free time with her favorite Starbucks drink, and her poem was once published on the Heritage Review.