Mornings on the Groundby Rosa Alice Branco
To accept the day. What will come.
To pass through more streets than houses,
more people than streets. To pass throughskin to the other side. While I make
and unmake the day. Your heart
sleeps with me. It wraps me up at night
and the mornings are cold when I get up.
And I'm always asking where you are and why
the streets no longer are rivers. At times
a drop of water falls to the ground
as if it were a tear. At times
there isn't ground enough to soak it up.
--tr. Alexis Levitin, New European Poets, Miller & Prufer, eds