in the length of daylight's strip
territories long and grey
downward through the valley
lie the shards of lighted gloom
light has fallen
but it cannot grip the pastures
and its shores grow blue
the sun is leaving me here
the foam of dark waves on the soil
run toward the pink sky
for there are deep pools here
where founts of cold reside
light has fallen
waist-deep in the pasture
and against my burning legs
brushes the first smooth black fish
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