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from the November 2005 issue: Seoul Searching

blossoming from the body of another

There remained a few graves at the deserted factory site
They were torn up, then there were puddles
Yesterday the wind blew all day long like a sweltering cotton quilt
Rain this morning-a tall stalk of horseweed looks down blankly
At the ground, blossoming from the body of another
In that incarnation there is no pleasure

For the next poem in this sequence, click here.

November 2005
Seoul Searching
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