Wangdaesa

Wangdaesa

Halos have become veils 

of haze, of mist, or fog,

and view of valleys disappear

untroubled

In a hillside's heart a fading Buddha,

carved

for centuries of watch;

People -

coming, going, whispering, being.

They live and die 

Azaleas scattered -

strewn like thoughts

on busy foothills

convened 

before the bridge