I wanted to look at the sea in winter
in its truce with the noisy summer.
It looked to me like a desert plain,
bare, in tones of faded colours.
Where my gaze finds new distances to look upon.
It's an indistinct time, as tho suspended,
to weave an ambiguous plot and to mark
the border between what is real and what is imaginary.
I concentrate on an insignificant degree of time in this seemingly