Snow Grocer

sits amongst his wares facing
†††††a heater shaped like a fan with
no blades absorbing radiant heat
†††††like sun ra soaking up a cosmos

†††††with white gloves & thin white
hair he sits & laughs every time
†††††I try to guess what he just said
eg how much to pay for makkolli &

then one day he says eh tonight –
as if he knows what I am
thinking – how these skies look
†††††pregnant with ice, both of us

†††††smiling and laughing – tonight!
only it doesn’t snow, not tonight
†††††or any other night this week but
still i trudge on down to him &

ask tonight snow? at which he
†††††shrugs or laughs or both yes,
tonight, snow
then i realise
†††††he’s been speaking in english

†††††for days & it hasn’t snowed &
then in the dead of last night
†††††it fell down gently, like a rain
of makkolli on the hanok roof

& i thought about how quiet it
†††††was & how the sound of snow is
like a human breath on a window
†††††or footsteps on the world’s head

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