Blooming in the Afternoon

**Blooming in the Afternoon**

This time of waiting for you

A child is born and a man meets his end

A woman has her wedding and still time remains

You do not come

The flower does not bloom

I turn the hourglass over and begin waiting again

Time glances sideways as it passes

Sand slipping through fingers

A noisy time where no one interferes

Hands holding teacups busily rise and fall, exchanging sly glances

And still time remains

In the slow afternoon as a lifetime fades

A single small chrysanthemum on the table

Blooms alone

—Kwon Ji-sook

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The small chrysanthemum on the table must have felt even more lost. Through the thick double-paned windows, it could not have heard the humming of autumn butterflies and bees. Even if the window had been left open, the square eyes of the screen—so fine that even a goblin would count them until dawn and leave—would have blocked the way. Inside the vase holding the chrysanthemum, there would not have been even an ankle's depth of water. While you kept turning the hourglass over and over, it must have decided to bloom alone. It bloomed for itself, but its fragrance must have spread across the entire universe.

—Ban Chil-hwan, Poet