67) The Funeral in the Trees
Wolran Kim
There are trees that have bone dust flowing in their sap
The dead’s nametags that never fall in the fall
Hang instead of leaves
There are trees that grow, staring at epitaphs
The dead come into the flowers in the cruel garden
Whenever the seasons come and go like a hearse
The place changes clothes in the soul
The roots suck up the memories touching bones
The trees breathe from the ashes
Instead of a bloated mound from the comfort of the afterlife
Lush woods call the night of a previous life
The lives who walk along a walk
Become trees and cry with the forest
I was alive and the trees were dead on this land
The trees finally walk only after my death
Clear blood flows as sap
Flying trees as souls
The rooted land of moments, without any evil mind
Even with a dry branch, in peace
A span of shadow is rising
Hit by a heavy shower of stars all night
Even burning fall of the earth comes in red
In the long run, the hot blood finally cools down
Ten fingers which had pointed only to the ground
Lastly, I want to stretch out to the sky
And then become the trees
