At Mt. Kumkang Village, North Korea
by Yearn Hong Choi
I was more comfortable in the darkness.
The black night was concealing
The poor farmer’s grimace,
His primitive tools,
His barren fields,
His undernourished children,
Barbed wire between us
And the soldiers’ tense eyes
Between us.
Fireflies flying in the darkness
Reminiscent of a mid-summer night’s dream,
Still alive in the mountain village.
And a falling star in the darkness
Magical, in an otherwise dark land.
I like the dark night
Blinding me to the melancholy of the village of my youth
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