From Alaska to Florida,
the landscape barely changes—
one day, two days.

Spring sits by the window,
arriving in the heart of winter,
and I dream of spring.

From autumn,
where a single touch
might burst open
like a pomegranate seed,

spring has come this far—
calling me
right in front of me—
and I never noticed.

All night long,
while everything, numbed by cold,
hid within snow, beneath snow,
time itself concealed,

his warm breath
was comforting
the branches trembling
in the frozen sky.

With the utmost care,
with steps
so slow—

forgotten,
drowsy steps.

It was
a love
that cannot be forgotten.

January 20, 2026

— TaeHun Yoon