<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Market in Cheongju. Night seabirds through a sudden window. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n John \u00a0Gartland<\/strong>, UK, novelist, playwright; founder-Poetry ID, UK. Poetry collections, Gravity\u2019s Fool<\/em> :2005, Poetry Without Frontiers<\/em>: 2008. University teacher, Asia; Visiting Professor of English Writing, Korea National University of Education. You can find him on Facebook.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Market in Cheongju. Night A spring night in Cheongju. A thousand mysteries in the elixir of cold oranges. Korean seamstress in the closing market, floor littered with remnants of others\u2019 finery, your head is bowed, machining quiet hours into a wrap of restfulness we slip on like a comfortable coat. We […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6359","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6359","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6359"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6359\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6360,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6359\/revisions\/6360"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6359"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6359"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6359"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/em><\/strong>
\nA spring night in Cheongju.
\nA thousand mysteries
\nin the elixir of cold oranges.
\nKorean seamstress in the closing market,
\nfloor littered with remnants of others\u2019 finery,
\nyour head is bowed, machining quiet hours
\ninto a wrap of restfulness we slip on
\nlike a comfortable coat.
\nWe stare, the dreaming needle flies,
\nand you, peace-working,
\nnever lift your eyes.
\nThese dark aisles draw us in;
\ndown there, a couple in white smocks
\nand yellow gauntlets, by their silver trove
\nare ladling heaps of ice in bright
\nobeisance to the shuttered night.
\nWe fly into the frozen moment,<\/p>\n
\nAround us, shadows; doors
\nare slamming. Cries of watchmen
\ngreet returning ghosts,
\nannounce the close, and crash the iron bolts,
\non the frozen moment
\ncrash the iron bolts.
\n <\/p>\n