Whistle

Whistle

A Chapter by puffz

My father whistles songs
he can't sing along
in English.

He whistles Korean folk songs,
his mother sung to him.

He whistles, nodding
to his own beat.

Pursed lips 
curled tongue
He blows out air
harmful to the body
It leaves hot, not angry
steady.

It flavors the air,
easy on my ears.


© 2016 puffz


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Added on January 5, 2016
Last Updated on January 5, 2016