The Magician Wears a Hat

The magician, who cut off a rhinoceros’s horn and wore it on his head,

Borrowed a penguin’s wings to caress the texture of a green apple.

Click, he opens the door to the heart and steps inside.

Cut in half the time you have experienced and tap on its flank.

Dress each and every seed with imagination.

Lift the shade, as if invisible hours are opening their eyes one by one.

Pay heed to the mesmerizing silhouette from behind, and the tears in between.

The desert wind blows in, carving away the walls of the mind.

An occasional, unexpected intent—the hunger grows desperate.

Causing a stir at the center of life, the fallen apple’s shoulders tremble.

The magician secretly, stealthily covets

Dali’s art book hidden inside his hat.

On days when his neck stiffens from trying to soothe colliding tendons,

He stands Gala from the drawer upon a plate.

Shall we stir the hardening spring water with the rhinoceros’s horn?

Shall we borrow the magician’s hat and wear it for just ten months?

Who knows? On the first day of the New Year, in a major daily newspaper,

We might just read the smile of a ripe, red apple.

I am Yeon Myung-ji, a poet from South Korea. I began my literary career in 2013 with the poetry journal <Gasibi>. I have published the poetry collections <Sitting Like an Apple> and <Where Is the House of the Word “I’m Sorry”>, the e-book< Seventeen Marco Polo Sheep>, and the travel essay< Step by Step, Walking the Camino de Santiago>. I have received the Tolstoy Literary Award, Homi Literary Award, Cheongsong Gaekju Literary Award, Aviation Literary Award, and the Bronze Prize in Poetry at the 2025 Literature Asia Awards. My poems have appeared in literary journals and magazines across Asia, Europe, and the Middle East. I continue to write with passion, exploring life, memory, travel, and the human spirit.