[Afternoon Poem] Today's Jeongryujang / Yoon Seokjeong

Today, I hurriedly took the bus to avoid being late for work, but after a long ride, I realized it was going in the opposite direction. I absentmindedly read the unfamiliar street signs along the way, feeling dazed as I traveled through the common cityscape. Suddenly, I panicked, missed my stop, and got off at the next one. I ran across the street to the bus stop, waited for the bus departing from the terminal, and anxiously checked the endless passing time. I waited for the bus passing through stops I had never been to before?one after another after another... I checked the bus’s expected arrival time, then checked again after a minute had passed, and checked the arrival time once more. I blamed myself for not confirming today’s direction properly, felt pathetic, and as if I could not forgive myself for making such a mistake, I grabbed my heart by the collar every minute and shook it violently. I didn’t even know where my heart was, and what on earth it had done to torment itself over trivial matters like this. Yesterday, the day before yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that... with a dazed face, I commuted from the same bus stop to work and returned from the same stop across the street. Just as busy people ask if you are busy, no one ever asked me if I was ever free. At a quiet bus stop today, I checked myself and suddenly my heart ran away in the opposite direction.

■ Whenever life felt unnecessarily complicated, I used to take any bus to the terminal. Even though I knew well there was nothing to gain by going there. Still, looking out the bus window at the gradually unfamiliar and equally leisurely scenery, grumbling as I swayed here and there, at some point, strangely enough, my mind would become empty and I would feel at ease. Why was that? I can’t say exactly, but perhaps those two or three hours were like a journey for me. What is a journey anyway? It’s just going and coming back. And every time, without anything new, I learned that the place I left was the place I had to return to. In other words, the place where I stood was always the terminal and soon the starting point. ? Poet Chaesangwoo

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.