Torque

When we walk
a boulder turns inside me.
The blue horizon of the lake has gone into the gloom,
just some gas lights far behind the water
in the shadow of the hill,
on the stony shore.

The landing stage rocks under our feet,
a silent sound, a silent swing of water,
The gees glide soundlessly behind the cape,
like ghosts of love
shaded by dark waves.

We walk down a steep slope of hill
then we walk up another one,
we leave this dark basin,
with its water, black as oil
with its muddy shores.
We are welcomed by the old land,
that we cannot leave, we cannot leave each other.