Dusk at the Small Port

Create Aminah Tanjung
This time no one is looking for love
in the warehouse, the old house, on the story
poles and temali. Ships, boats no seafarers
blowing herself in believing to adhere

Drizzle accelerates dark. There is also a lapel of the eagle
offensive grim, swish the day running swimming
found the coax of will. Not moving
and now the land and the sleeping water are missing the waves

No longer. I myself. Walk
combing the peninsula, still hopeful
once arrived at the end and all good-bye
from the fourth beach, the final sedu can be captured.