How Everything Fades

In the evening as the sun slips down in the horizon line,
I see myself glimmering in the airport window glass,
a little translucent me, not for the time being so solid
as the man standing here staring hollowly out at a Korea
that will fade into the night all around behind me gone.

Then through the airplane window, I watch lights from distant buildings,
a country awake with people of my blood living out their lives,
all of this a scene which I’ll lose sight of as I fly farther away,
land back home in Hawai‘i, rarely thinking there about my heritage here,
except sometimes when I lie in bed at night, picture again the ghosts of my ancestors
who waved goodbye to me as I disappeared into the night, glimpsing them gone.

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