a murky shield of half-light,
grey, dove-blue-grey hangs
coin-like on the dawning air
edges roiling aether's unconsuming fire.
Into depths we stare, the fog-face mirror's,
til there appears,
swimming itself into view:
a man? no,
it hasn't ears;
a woman? no,
nose too long,
features sharpening, enlarging
coming to clarity
composing an entirety:
a future inventing itself? No-
it's a dolphin!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem