I came to my friend’s home when I went into the hills, from where I could see my wanderings lying crooked along the coast.
I cursed the winding
road. How foolish
to want a straight coast.
-
The further I grow away,
the sea grows. The sky remains
as wide, but to a closed eye.
His windows were dark and his hearth was cold. I looked around and found there was no …
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