2009 Sejong Writing Competition
Winning Entries :: Sijo
A single sole was lost today, deep in the river Yalu,
Thrashing, twisting, torn to shreds with color quickly fading.
On the bridge a small boy laughs, holding out his empty shoe.
You ask me what I’m humming; I tell you I’m humming about nothing.
This is untrue because I’m humming about you, all day long.
Who am I to tell you you’re “nothing” when you are my song?
Remember? Mother and son, father, daughter, uncle and aunt,
where are they? That horrid bomb, those Americans, they killed them all.
What is left? Hiroshima, gone. In internment, my brothers weep.