Friday, October 10, 2008

(untitled)

A feeling of falling off the face of the
world
the tide makes distance, length unappear
it is sheeting rain against the mountains
driving to ground the birds

혼자

soft reflection of the sea meets
smudge, meets cloud. Just errant
brush strokes, translucent, pale

the water ceaseless, unrelenting
sand scars copper skin

the tide is now so near

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