Blankets and clothes
This woman I never had a chance to know
but she wrapped my heart in her robe
and buried it in Seoul
나의 할머니는 한국어이다.
I pray in Korean
for no specific reason
I even try to follow the harvest season
but my mom hid my 김치 jar…
maybe it was for the best
because making 김치 is hard
and it tends to make me obsessed.
김치는 나의 심 촌이다.
I write random 한국말.
I think my handwriting is pretty cool – pretty smooth
but when it comes to having to speak it
I stutter like a fool.
I have the vowels down
but to my tongue
the consonants are still on a different continent
and the pronunciation can’t be done.
ㄱ, ㄲ, ㅋ, ㅅ, ㅆ, ㄷ, ㄸ, ㅌ, ㅂ, ㅃ, ㅍ, ㅊ, ㅈ, ㅎ, ㄴ, ㄹ
나는 나 뿐 한국사림 이 다! ㅋ, ㅋ
이것이 보초 기 입니다 –
I tell my niece about her cheeks.
I’ll see you next week.
My nephew laughs and grins
So I say it once again
뿌타 당신은아 주아룸답다.
He barely talks
and still wobbles when he walks
but he nods his jarhead
and his lips read “사랑해요”
I lay in bed
repeating new sentence structures I’ve recently read.
I think of the woman I never had a chance to know, 할머니.
Tomorrow I’ll wrap my niece and nephew in her robe
and someday bring their hearts back to Seoul
then there I will speak the language
I did have a chance to know.