Climbing up a circular tower stairwell in an imaginational
reality, loving to see the scenery down below, watching to
see if there was any wildlife coming about.
Seeing movement, but that's all, thinking, very thoughtful
as life takes this poet along edges of a sunsetical horizon,
knowing that it's mine alone, already there gathering shells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem