Dash To Glorious Grab Poem by Chulsoo Kim

There were a lot of small stones on the surface of your territory.
I pick one of them to smell yours.
I attempted to throw it far away to find out your boundary.
I ran to where it reached to get it again.
On that fallen point where my eagerness had been dissipated,
I stood up with the soil grabbed.
A breeze approched and
was wound on wrist which had been waiting for jealous answer.
Sour, pale, transparent, rusty blackening, and finally white fire seeds
flew away from my palm.
I heard reply from the seed which touched the boundary.
I can smell the sound, of which the memory of fire could make fire,
at there and finally walk to out of it.