Han-ji             

Mulberry, stringy inner bark As white as the cooked rice
Soaked ’n  torn ’n mashed  in the big sticky tub
Collected ’n spread on the bamboo rack
Laid out and dried on the hot on-dol  floor
ironed ’n smoothed, now it’s ready to go

To hold somebody’s memories and thoughts
To keep the stories ’n secrets of sometime
To reveal the artists’ hearts
To hear the lover’s confession
To carry the wishes ’n signals
To make the air cool
To be a hard and shiny floor cover
To  be a soft door ’n window cover
On a cool fine autumn day
Mom replaces han-ji for sliding doors
I’m watching ’n waiting for my turn
Attaching flopping mon-poong-ji on the side
Hiding the dried leaves ’n flowers
Between doubled papers around the handle areas.

Wait for a shiny winter day
Lazy afternoon sun light crawls in
Searches ’n finds them calls their names
Maple, gingko, oak,, violet, cosmos …. 

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