Look through a white box,
Any white box,
The front and back missing,
What use can be made of it.
The sun high,
Shining from a limpid sky,
Forms shadows inside shadows,
Inside the box;
Doors within doors,
Opening and closing,
Clean sharp petals,
In temporal space time.
Captures a moving car,
Along a dusty road
By a lake. A bather
In yellow bathing suit and cap,
Dives from a floating platform.
Her body, a perfect arc,
Evaporates into still water.
The platform lilts gently, a man
Lying across it dips a hand
Inside the ripples on the lake.
The car stops, someone steps out,
Calls out to the man on the
Platform, who then points to
A house above the lake.
The looker shifts
His gaze and frames
The house inside
The white box.
He enters a room, covers
The open ends,
Puts the closed box
On the table. Leaves
The room.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem