Ship waves are surfing in under a sky blotched in grey sea rain along both sides of the bay. Pale water crinkles in a southern-winter wind and bubbles under the falling clouds.
I gaze across the river-bay-haze; we lap through the day's many grays, but in warmth we'll be rising and i'll be smiling all the way.
- Samuel Richard Leonard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem