Bird Atlas—The Child Who Could Understand Birds

by Bo Hee Moon

In an interview to search for my birth family—

where would I like to go in my free time

in South Korea, the interviewer asks.

I say, "Jeju Island." The interviewer suggests 

I will loafe beachside and says it is improper

for me to only go by Bo. I should be called, Bo Hee.

But I would like to see the fairy pitta and a photograph

of my birth mother. I ask to delay the trip until June

so I can finish the school year. The birth family search

goes on without me. Arriving back to the classroom,

a girl named after a wren points her hot glue gun.

Burning herself once by accident, she does not skulk. 

Mountain pink and twilight spill over the collage.

A song spangles. Another teacher says, "You're a long way 

from home"—the bell rings shortly. I chat with the girl,

the airy trill. We do not touch on Euclidean geometry

or the prickly poppies. "You're beautiful," the girl says, 

and I know she is seeing something in herself. We marvel 

at the glued beads, the aqua lyric on old cardboard.

Note: This poem includes and alters language from the Encyclopedia of Korean Folk Literature: Encyclopedia of Korean Folklore and Traditional Culture Vol. III by the National Folk Museum of Korea (South Korea) and by the Executive Director Chung Myung-sub (Director, Folk Research Division) with the English translation by Jung Ha-yun (Professor, Ewha Womans University).