Airport Near the Beach scrap
by Kim Kwang-Kyu
July 17, 2015
Author Bio 작가 소개
In July in my native land
Purple grapes ripen in the sun.
Village wisdom clusters on the vines
As distant skies enter each berry.
The sea below the sky opens its heart,
A white sail moves toward shore.
The traveler I long for would come then,
Wrapping his wayworn body with a blue robe.
If only I could share these grapes with him
I wouldn’t mind if the juice wet my hands.
Child, take out a white linen napkin,
Spread it on our table’s silver platter.
Writer 필자 소개
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