Koreatown

[couchgrouch]

KoreatownWell, he tip-tapped his cane, ahead of his tattered shoesas he felt and found his way, down busy avenueshe past rest'raunts n rickshaws, laundries n liquor storeshis mind swam with mem'ries, from many years beforehe searched bookstores n salons, sifting ev'ry soundas his old heart looked for, a voice in Koreatownhe recalled a roadway, fifty miles from Seoulshe found him lying wounded, his Jeep full of bulletholesshe laid clean cloths on his eyes, and nursed him night and dayhandfed him rice n fish, in a hut of mud and hayshe sang gentle lullabies, that helped him sleep somehowand last week he swore he heard, her voice in Koreatowncos he woke up in that VA bedwith bandages around his headbut he never forgot that soothing soundhad she become a refugeewould he find her...could it really beshe was living there in Koreatownwell, he walked in a parlor, stood there a minute or twocos through a cloud of voices, shined one he thought he knewshe looked up and saw a man, bent with bad fortune and agefoggy mem'ries found her heart, as his fingers read her facethe only life left in his eyes, were teardrops falling downas she sang him lullabies, that day in Koreatown(c)2007 Robert George