Brother

                        I

Brother
you left your Ma
your children and
your woman
back in Korea.

America is no paradise
you've found out.

You are silent
with no rolling tongue.
You are crippled
with no four-wheeled legs.
And you poison yourself
with regrets.

Cry aloud if you can.
I know you won't.
Instead
you hide and
drown in cigarette smoke.

Sorry
you spilled the ash
by my door yesterday.
Otherwise
I would not have wept
for you.

                           II

            My Brother
            slouching your body
            lean and weary
            you do not jump or sing
            as you used to.

            I took you out
            to my apple tree
            last Sunday afternoon.

            The sun was high
            hidden
            behind the cloud screen.

            Clinging
            to a willowy branch
            you chopped and sawed the branches
            reaching high to the sky.

            Quivering
            like a bow against an arrow
            you were the leopard
            I imagined.

            Pour out the stifled breath
            of your old memories.
            Let it drift away to be the rainfall
            in the far away forest.

                                    Mutilated
                                    the apple tree we meant to shape
                                    stood
                                    dumb and crippled.

                                    You said you were sorry
                                    the tree might die.
                                    I said surely
the tree will survive.