i was ready to try my hands
to gather seaweeds today
it's a surprise for high tide
too deep to dip; also windy
dragging waves harder
water is murky and cold
i indulged myself watching
passing cars on the bridge
they're like matchbox from me
jogging must be good excuse
from escaping work'; many
maybe out of ship; their penalty
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem