At the Pier

The shore-the sea-the shore. The water is too bald.
The sails shine with the south salt.
Like milk poured into water, they melt on the wave.
The water gives reflections of the stars so far away.

The lights of the Universe are under the water sparkling.
With the white foam they appear running,
And the singing wind begins to catch them up,
And rushes in the dance, and wants the sails to clasp.

The air turns in pale green-blue.
The drops fall warmed by lovely June.
The purple haze becomes alive.
My shadow's warmed by summer night.




Poetry by Alla Antares
Read 763 times
Written on 2008-06-21 at 22:08

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