Gilded sun slips below the ocean’s face
Ebbing diurnal ties to evening fancies
Thoughts of sweat and moil leave no trace
Naught given to such mundane malignancies
A current ridden into a turtle’s cove
Kindred souls banking and diving
Eternal repose spilling through their aquatic grove
Discovering my new home upon arriving
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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