My birth father is a red crane dance. A woman hums.
Need for Protection   :   Abandoned child

My birth mother is a monk's dance, not a peach offering
for a king. More than a month after I was born, I had a mild

oral thrush and the next month—lifts head 60º
Adoptable In my port city, the early white radishes glow

in the autumn evening by a cup of cooling water.
The red-crowned crane lifts off an edge. A dance for peace

is for skilled dancers. A figure dances, the rhythmic wind bending—
and returning in the tinged, fluttering light on crushed petals and a kettle.
 

—Bo Hee Moon

Note: This poem includes and alters language from the Encyclopedia of Korean Seasonal Customs: Encyclopedia of Korean Folklore and Traditional Culture Vol. 1 by the National Folk Museum of Korea (South Korea) and executive editing by Cheon, Jingi (Director of the Folk Research Division).

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