Given the Name of Summer
I walk back through rain falling
and find new days here for me.
I walk on and see how it all turns
in the wind, casting so many
dull tormented shadows
over all this muddy ground.
This was given the name of summer,
but nothing grows out here now
out of this sodden ground.
Only memory crawls out here
over the absence of what
were once such green valleys.
The definitions of land are lost
to us and we do not know
how to name these new places.
All these new islands growing
from water and from mud
and even if we did, we do not know
how to sail to these new lands
and how to take a new world
into our hands and learn to shape it.
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