Wooden structures that emerge from the face of the earth.
Temples of love to give identity to the ground on which they stand.
From east to west a glow with stellular radiance and energy.
On this rock we rely for our daily spin through the sky.
Ivory mountains up above skyscapes of distant places we cannot walk.
Ever changing these vapor ranges.
Beyond the earths golden carpet of October.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.