The creature that looks
Up from under the waters
At you, but whose ruins lie
Still in the forest,
Burnt down by humans
Some thousands of years ago
And never rebuilt,
That beast is your heritage,
The thing that sees well—
Not your only heritage,
Compound monster that you are,
But the part that troubles you,
The part that I admire most,
Wordless focus from the waves.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.