Poem By hoedong howard
on the way breaking dusk
when i strain my feeble ear
there is the sound of footsteps
to listen to footsteps
could i hear well?
after realizing everything stupidly
after seding back myselfs to their home
there is a white show dissappearing on the dark corner
loving white shadows...
after dismissing my everything
turning vainly on the back street
i come back to my rook coloring like dust
like a dignified sheep with deep faith
i shall glaze all days without any worries