For a lake feel
to find the four-leaf clover
grazing your absence.
But the road does not run.
And I cannot reach
the wicked rapture.
Where the gray sky
meets the water\'s shadow
every wave weeps for the moon.
Like a dragonfly skimming
the import, floats on the
dampened page of life.
You will not be able to sleep
in this full moon.
The pilgrim hawk was flying
very low.