M. Rephun (c) November 27, 2007
On a cold morning
The branches wave
Like hands, saying farewell
Above them, the sky, all gray
Behind them, a yellow light gleams Like the sun, a rising beacon
On this cold morning
The branches wave, Goodbye
Like arms left naked to the wind
Rising from the depths of the sea
Signaling the crowd that stands
On the distant beach-head:
Farewell, farewell, we are leaving this cold land
Forever: take us with you
One who sits alone
In wonderment at this morning, these arms,
And the light in the sky which dawns in you
Ever so slowly