When
I walk
At night
Near the water
I listen,
do no watch.
Hearing, at night
Only silence
Left
In the wake of sound.
One foot presses
Each wet grain
The other presses
Only sand.
Every touch
… A still life
… An isolated frame
And then …
The foot speaks
To the full heart
When it meets
For the first time
Its hundredth step.
