Time of White Water
The dusk to come. And on water - white light,
The canoe is sliding. And was dressed July,
Into whisper of the sand. And the water was spate.
And the moon sat down on a squat to await,
Or the oars along the river, or the strange fish a whale.
Along island of reeds someone slowly sailed,
In canoe without knowing the woes.
Its seems: all the life- is Time of white water on earth.
Copyright © Alex Klugman | Year Posted 2017
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