Invention No. 12 in A-fl at major

for two voices

⌠ A scant handful, if I'd dared to touch.⌡                                Tender, the young jindallaekkot,

⌠                                Soft gray feathers, an olive undercoat,⌡ wild azalea, the kind which won't survive

⌠ spring green throat.⌡             transplanting. Or how I twisted

⌠                 Bom chorok mok.⌡ and tore off branches, still leafless,

⌠                         Blood still red against concrete,⌡ trusses of rose-purple scattering

⌠ cracked by the gingko's roots.⌡               as I lay them in the snow

⌠ Looking down to keep my footing⌡                                                 at your feet,

⌠ I lost it, seeing you.⌡ to hem you in.

⌠                   Upsujussuh.⌡ Still you disappeared.

⌠                               Were you vireo, did you sing,⌡ Like Bede's swallow arrowing

⌠ I am green, I am verdant,⌡                                 out of darkness,

⌠ I am fresh? Not knowing⌡                                 through the fire-lit hall

⌠                                 yet I swear, you were here, mattered⌡ straight back into winter storms.

⌠                             still matter, even gone.⌡ Flickered, fluttered, gone.