A June morning,
too soon to wake,
too late to fall asleep again.
I must go out--
the greenery is dense
with memories,
they follow me with their gaze.
They can't be seen,
they merge completely into
the background, true chameleons.
They are so close
that I can hear them breathe
though the birdsong is deafening.
-- Memories Look at Me: A Memoir by Tomas Tranströmer, Robin Fulton (Translator)
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