Mornings on the Ground
by Rosa Alice Branco
To accept the day. What will come.
To pass through more streets than houses,
more people than streets. To pass through
skin to the other side. While I makeand 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
Photo: White-throated Sparrow by Mary F. at Mary's View
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