
Grinning at the sun,
slicing through the horizon—
a kangaroo hops.

Grinning at the sun,
slicing through the horizon—
a kangaroo hops.

Though twilight’s set in
our cranes reach out for the moon
human kind aims high

Letting his guard down
the brown dog lies beside me
guarding my small space.

The morning light show—
natural and the other
melding into one.

Swaying drunkenly,
chasing after the sunset—
high sails on the port.