Secluded Life
Sometimes I wish to live in seclusion:
In a deep valley where there is no telephone,
no television, no computer.
No incoming news … only the sounds
of sparrows and mountain streams.
Sometimes while sitting on a tree branch or a boulder,
dipping my feet in a stream,
I quietly recall past days.
Yet surveying all I have toiled to achieve
everything seems meaningless.
Once I followed after rainbows,
chased after the wind.
But I don’t want to struggle to exist anymore.
I hope to fully enjoy a life of seclusion
with nature as my neighbor.
If I miss my friends in the valley,
I will go down to the post office and send a letter;
then return to my nest in a leisurely way—
where I will sing together with unidentified birds
and play a game of hide-and-seek
with the fawns in the forest.
Times Square
A crowded Starbucks has no seats for its customers.
Outside I drink my coffee standing —
A temporary stage in Times Square filled with all kinds of people.
I observe tourists in the busy street: a large crowd jumbled together.
Storytellers, young folks snapping pictures,
an accordion player passing his hat for money,
a bride and bridegroom at their wedding ceremony.
From where I stand it looks like they are all leading incredibly busy lives,
hurrying in step to the building’s neon advertisement
that also moves ceaselessly.
Perhaps people feel like they are traveling together,
as if they are bewitched
by the flashing pace of billboards.
Among them only the yellow cabs move lazily
through the scurrying crowd of fast walkers.
Pedestrian Crosswalk at Time Square
I’m waiting for the traffic light to change to green.
People swarm around me…
clamoring to cross the busy street
within the seven seconds mandated by a machine.
They walk with hurried steps—
students with their smartphones, heads down, watch their screens;
young couples hug, slap and tickle each other;
a whistling young man pulls at his jeans.
A middle-aged woman clutches a purse in one hand and a fox terrier in another;
an elderly man, wearing large sunglasses hobbles slowly,
while a girl in a wheelchair moves determinedly.
To get to the other side they must move forward quickly—
Going with the flow…moving forward….just forward…
No option for backward motion.
Everyone moving equally.
In this short duration of time, a mass of people,
each with their own style,
moving.
Han-Jae Lee has studied poetry at Chung-Ang University and Korea University, and in the United States at library workshops in Santa Cruz, San Jose and at the Hudson Valley Writers’ Center in New York. In 2005 his poem, A High-rise Apartment, won a silver award in a national contest sponsored by The National Assembly of Korea and The Federation of Korean Cultural Center. His first poetry collection, A High-Rise Apartment, was published in Korea in 2008. He also co-published three poetry anthologies. His second collection in English in 2013, The Golden Gate Bridge and Other Natural Wonders, was published by River Sanctuary Publishing. His chapbook, A Place Where Clouds Are Flowing was published by Finishing Line Press in August 2017. His poems have appeared in Catamaran, the Monterey Poetry Review, and Caesura.