Late Bloomers

It's Sunday,

Fall, with cool breeze.

Dad comes home 

left soccer early

for the wedding

we look at the time

ask, where's mom?

she strolls in

thirty minutes late

Hair done in a bun

black glossy opaque

Had it been dark,

I'd get lost in them.

He glares at her

she smiles,

he bites his tongue,

asks her to hurry.

She runs into the room,

we wait,

by the green leather sofa.

She walks out

in a ham-bok*

shiny white and blue

with small stitches

of red flowers.

My father quiet,

opens the door for her.

We arrive 

to the wedding late,

my uncle and I

look at the guests

turn back to my mom

the hambok as her petals

she blossoms.

*hambok- korean traditional dress