morning doves sing in magnolia trees
a squirrel researches the ground
mists from the ocean drift in on a breeze
a jogger approaches, his third time around
children with backpacks on walking to school
the traffic tho distant grows loud
thus morning is broken again - like a rule,
and solitude hides from the thickening crowd..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem