by Simon Ortiz
I don’t really feel like walking
but somehow I feel I must
since I have come
to this edge,
and so I walk.
The sun is going downwards
or rather one point changes to another,
and I know I am confronting
A dog comes sniffing at my knees
and I hold my hand to him,
and he sniffs, wags his tail
and trots away to join a young couple,
his friends, who smile as we meet.
I look many times as the sun sets
and I don’t know why I can’t see
clearly the horizon I’ve imagined.
Maybe it’s the clouds, the smog
maybe it’s the changing.
It’s a duty with me,
I know, to find the horizons,
and I keep on walking on the ocean’s edge,
looking for things in the dim light.