It's Proverbial Time decides what's short, what's long. When my mother passed, her time was a thin river. There was no trembling. No transient sigh. She is a ghost of a smile now. Her words drops of light, happy as the moon, and before my very eyes the windows fogged. Fall seven times, rise up eight, she'd say, so we lit candles for kindness, and then lit another one for her memory. It's proverbial.
Korean proverbs interlaced with poetry. AI Digital Artwork is created using Midjourney. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023 Shared on Twitter #amwriting @midjourney
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