The Yard of My House

The Yard of My House
Yong Wan Choi 13.06.08

Hidden behind the city's high-rises
in the little yard where the guest wing and the inner quarters face each other
when moonlight slips past the clouds and the house's shadow falls
grandmother and grandfather come visiting

The day my sister married, rouge dots on her cheeks and brow, a peaked hat on her head,
the elders rejoiced at the bride and groom in rainbow-striped silk
and danced with their shoulders to pansori and mask dances at the feast table

Then one day a shell of 6◦25 [the Korean War] burned the guest wing
grieving for grandfather who left us so suddenly
even grandmother, who let down her hair and wailed,
left the yard where the tears had dried

Under the eaves of the empty yard after all the guests are gone
the rain, knowing nothing, drums on the stone floor
noisy, as if old memories were coming home

When the rain stops and the city's face brightens
a swallowtail butterfly flutters into the garden from somewhere
and as the children shout and play, bringing flowers into bloom
my childhood returns and I fly along with the butterfly