3/31: The Inevitable Military Service

Also as a warmup. Dedicated to all of my male Korean friends who will, most likely after their second year of college, perform their two years of mandatory service in the ROK military.

You point while voicing the softest “ah,”
At the blushing sky of soft orange and sleepy purple,
Dancing in the dark pools which
Are your familiar tired eyes, quiet and thoughtful,

This dying sun might soon grab hold
Of you, and take you to sleep together in the west,
Only to arise the next morning
To an eastern horizon, and a stiffened reflection,

The uniform is truly an honor
Which will look unusual on your frail body,
People will ask for your age twice
And wonder if you might survive a “real” war,

Your long hair always flopping
And usually in need of a wash and a comb,
Introverted, unusual, searching,
Eyes reveal your conventional genius,

But these simple gestures of yours
And love for beautiful things such as this,
Makes me warm deep inside so
When you go, forget not our budding friendship.

3/31: Rustburg, population: 1,431

I guess it’s too late to live on the farm, she says,
weaving chipped-polish fingers through the wind
of a Virginia afternoon in the spring of ’03,
I guess it’s too late to buy Grandaddy’s cows back.

I imagine I can smell the sunlight on the lake
where our mother used to swim with her brothers,
where made-up monsters with cereal box names
chased her all the way home to the slamming screen door.

Between our sunspotted legs the tomatoes roll in their bags.
We pass the silo where our mother had her first kiss
and our father turns the car left onto the highway.
A mile per hour for every year with the farm in her veins.

The grass bends, and
the wildflowers bend, and
our mother bends her head,
silent in the front seat.

Prompt: http://www.napowrimo.net/one-week-countdown-day-1/

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