
Unmistakably,
firing up the big engines,
glowing, sun rises.

Unmistakably,
firing up the big engines,
glowing, sun rises.

Staring at coffee
waiting for the clouds to part,
for my path to form.

The surfers convene:
brewing up a thunderstorm,
shady clouds gather.

All over the land,
gaping wounds and bleeding hearts—
cut trees; paper cuts.