In the ocean
Waves don't hug each other
they just mix together.

It's too hot
windows up and
nonchalantly
I look at the red brick wall next door

in the meantime
a fragile maple tree trunk
holding the square holes of the mosquito net
and is climbing up

My room
My desk
My bed
looking at my clothes

How happy am I?

Even in the midst of the winter to come
without pulling down the blind
Nor will I lower the windows

I'll be able to say hello to the neighbors
I've never spoken to before

What a joy!

Can i do it?

WAVING IN THE WIND

Now,
I will never be lonely at night.

Masterpieces are born by breaking the rules, and it's up to the reader, not the writer, to nurture them. Because the rules are not made by the writer, but by the reader. But breaking the rules doesn't mean you didn't follow them, it just means you don't need them.

without hills, no being can shine.

water-soaked
beans,
made from crushed
comforting color,
comforting aroma,
you,
square and stable
who filled us with blessings
every morning
in the childhood
a handful tofu,
and the broken glass windows,
and through the cracks of broken wooden doors
You came out dancing from them
enveloped us
vapor of wisdom and the soul &
best food in prison
after release
the first thing they should eat
you, a Tofu
It is not a coincidence
like Raffle.

There is a reason I love hill

It is not a forest
            a field
      in the grass

There is another reason I love hill

Hill, no direction.
      no height or base
      can lie down.

Really, there is a reason I love hills

Hills, Nostalgia
        There is a future
        There is bare feet

Where two meet, there is a Squiggly road
                                        there is a hug of healing.

The tree
speaks with shadows

The sky
speaks for stars

The sea
speaks as beaches

Love speaks in parting.