Poem: Ribbons of Song

Although, there is the fading moon,
although there are new waves,
there is one man,
who will not watch the sky.
One man who sees the morning
inside his own heart.
Meets the day, travelling.

Fishermen in Alexandria, Egypt

A fisherman shake free hopes,
a boat motor plays a barrel drum,
hours fall into the bay,
one shard of locusts begins to sing.
Soon there are ribbons of them calling,
ribbons and ribbons of song.

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