Mist rises to steamlike the bow crosses theviolin, shallow glasson the sheet of the surfaceleavening the humlike dough in the oven.The sunken sirens stretchthe temper of our trust,the darkness of night,the melody transpiringin the whisper of waves.How sacred to wade through tearsroam the hum of old roadscrescendo of calmand then the pullof tidecollapsing ashore likethe wind-chime ringof falling...