The sun is not up yet
I spy a shuffling silhouette
That light would make into a man
Down past my gate across the road
It moves with slow and insubstantial
Motion
If I were to call-
But dark makes creatures of us all
Shadow where might be eye or hand
For distance undefines belief
First light must show for eye to touch its
Ocean
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem