Stationed at various positions, they crane their long necks
at a woman in a blue sweat suit running ahead of them.
Across the road, to the left, parents and their small boy
stop to talk with a neighbor. It's one of those rare, balmy days
in mid-February; almost everyone is happy.
Through the tracery of the bare maples,
pines and meadows, the blue-gray sea - the road winds and winds.
A larch twists to a question mark at its tip.
My car's chasing the passionate, retreating sun,
an unforgettable phase of mellow, fading ochre.