Point autumnal fall colors frost at night
from place to place drew bush.
Here, the mother's lap
I say to my rhythm
the cradle of the world in the villages.
I feel the love, the longing,
and pain. sometimes the night sky
kicking a ball round,
and it will stick to a high tower remains.
Hour on the hour to fly on the wings of a wobble
Laughing jackdaw flock.
Joensuu is out there somewhere, and it is now August.
Track depend on the water, I
toes wasp injecting,
I am in this moment of distress in any pencil.