AFTER THE RAIN, CLIMBING A TALL BUILDING TO VIEW THE MOUNTAINS
It was just clearing after the rain of the night before
Mossy traces were on the steps.
I didn't climb the building thinking about writing a poem.
This poet's fest doesn't need any wine warming.
Just open the window, the mountain range will come in.
Before the eye, the village, drenched in smoke,
Will materialize.
I write now and see it as I saw it then -
The mountains and the sea -
Viewing it in detail
Like a painted picture.
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