Unlike a bridge of musk-hued flowers,
Running through the warm streams to the Danube,
I, a distasteful one,
Have exited your crowded country.
The green moss falls
Like spiral waves of fish looming.
Your hatred falls backwards on me,
A blue-purple sun above a bright sea
A moonrise of shining ivory.
Amid the wind thru the sea shells–
Life, an archaic affair.
An old apple tree under the tip of a grand city
Aspiration in the dense mist.
The black whale deep in the ocean,
The sea-star that waves have taken
Long overcome by dust.
Our disillusion eroded by them.