Poetry

Shawn Thew/EPA

By

Therese Young Kim

What Could They Be Whispering While Dancing

(Presidential Inaugural Ball, January 20, 2017)

“Wow, look at this crowd, billions of eyes glued on us,

 taking pictures!”

“This tops Miss Universe pageantry, Don.”

“Only a million times over! You look smashing, Mel.”

“Don’t I look like Venus in white?”

“Who is Venus?”

“Never mind. You need to take larger steps, dear,

or I’ll step on your toes.”

“I wish you were a bit shorter so that I can cuddle

your lovely sprayed hair and let you listen to my

beating heart.”

“Again, I almost stepped over your toes.

Why don’t you swing me around and show them

my frontal view?”

“Honey, if I swing you around, I’m afraid you’ll

trip over your heels and my hair will fly away!”

“Alright, let’s just dance our bedroom dance.”

“Here comes the vice president with his wife.

Don’t look. Let’s just keep dancing my way.”

Ode to the Oak

In seasons under the sun

you didn’t need me to tell you

how glorious you looked in your

voluptuous green, in golden crown.

Now in another season that has arrived

all too soon,

                         your bird nest empty,

you stand ever tall in your naked

stance, albeit gently slanted,

like Buddha has turned into an oak.

With no bark to spare for petty regrets

over your twisted limbs, scarred tissues,

punctured wounds,

yet determined to shelter a family

of young raccoons wintering

in your nook,

you stand ever bold and bare

in winter’s stare.

Therese Young Kim

Therese Young Kim worked as a professional interpreter in New York for 25 years before writing poetry and stories in the ensuing years, completing a novel, Nayoung’s Journey. Her works appeared in Korean literary journals and two stories were published in Rosebud literary magazine. Her poems are forthcoming in Poetry Pacific in May, 2017. She also has a website:www.yoursentimentalstranger.com