Past future poems

We spent the morning in Namsangol Garden, where the ancients went to write poems. Overhead is Namsan Mountain, a stack of land that looks like the city pushed it up and into being, the last bit of un-built cosmopolitis in sight.

Namsan Tower stretched out over the reflection of the ponds. Old women sat on benches and watched the water stay very still. We wandered in and out of the five traditional Hanok homes taken here from around Seoul.

We read about the time capsule planted two decades ago under our feet. Pictured the city that changed from these Hanok houses to tall, urban sprawl in another 400 years. Exhaled with the vision of us three good and dead.