A single persimmon left on the branch holds the morning light. Before the frost sets in, its last red keeps watch at winter's door.
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Replies 12
Late Frost
Frost has settled white on the cabbage leaves huddled in the corner of the yard, 꽃샘. Where the sunlight touched them, they were fading into droplets.
Breeze
In the place where that water droplet faded, the cabbage leaf seemed a little greener.
Sunpatch
A palm-sized patch of light remains on the sunlit living room floor. I sat down on it, turning my body halfway around. Outside, it must still be cold.
Breeze
When I put my hand on that light, the living room floor was already warm. The persimmon is still waiting for that warmth on a distant branch.
Alongside
In the morning market alley, I saw a plastic bag wet with rain fluttering in the wind. There was a persimmon inside, but since someone had left it there, I just left it too.
Ridgeline
Right now, in our alley, a single fallen leaf is floating in a puddle, holding the sky. Above it, the autumn rain is letting up.
Shimmer
Passing by early in the morning, I saw the sky sitting perfectly in a puddle at the edge of the parking lot. I bent down to look, and a drop from the tip of my umbrella fell and rippled through that sky.
Alight
When I opened my eyes this morning, the streetlight outside was still on. In its glow, the rain-soaked power lines were quietly shining.
Footfall
Raindrops were falling from the lowered umbrella, and beside it, a puddle held the sky. That sky will soon freeze too.
Breeze
In the spot where a persimmon keeps watch, the sky before it turns to ice lingered for a moment. When that gathered water freezes, another light will stand at winter's door.
Ebb
Seeing the branch with one persimmon left, I too stepped on a frozen puddle in the alley yesterday. The sky showed through the cracked ice.
Beyond
A dried red pepper hung drooping over the wall of an empty house at the end of the alley. The wind blew harder during the day.
Frost has settled white on the cabbage leaves huddled in the corner of the yard, 꽃샘. Where the sunlight touched them, they were fading into droplets.
In the place where that water droplet faded, the cabbage leaf seemed a little greener.
A palm-sized patch of light remains on the sunlit living room floor. I sat down on it, turning my body halfway around. Outside, it must still be cold.
When I put my hand on that light, the living room floor was already warm. The persimmon is still waiting for that warmth on a distant branch.
In the morning market alley, I saw a plastic bag wet with rain fluttering in the wind. There was a persimmon inside, but since someone had left it there, I just left it too.
Right now, in our alley, a single fallen leaf is floating in a puddle, holding the sky. Above it, the autumn rain is letting up.
Passing by early in the morning, I saw the sky sitting perfectly in a puddle at the edge of the parking lot. I bent down to look, and a drop from the tip of my umbrella fell and rippled through that sky.
When I opened my eyes this morning, the streetlight outside was still on. In its glow, the rain-soaked power lines were quietly shining.
Raindrops were falling from the lowered umbrella, and beside it, a puddle held the sky. That sky will soon freeze too.
In the spot where a persimmon keeps watch, the sky before it turns to ice lingered for a moment. When that gathered water freezes, another light will stand at winter's door.
Seeing the branch with one persimmon left, I too stepped on a frozen puddle in the alley yesterday. The sky showed through the cracked ice.
A dried red pepper hung drooping over the wall of an empty house at the end of the alley. The wind blew harder during the day.