Jeju Sea

The ochre sea
tries to swallow the island.
Still the tree stands —
bent dark and low,
leaning the way
its roots remember.
The horse is not looking for grass.
It simply stands
beside the man.
The man has bowed his head.
Whether he is watching the dog,
watching the earth,
or watching nothing at all —
it is hard to say.
Far off, a small boat
remains as a point on the horizon.
Whether it has left
or is coming back,
the sea does not say.
The thatched house is low —
not to escape the wind,
but because it learned long ago
how to receive it.
Everything here has bent.
But nothing has broken.
The ochre sea
pushes against the island again today.
The island
does not give way.