She faced herself at last, the story runs

A sheet of ocean

I have memories of
buying a sheet of beautiful ocean.
In a market with a ceiling of blue sky
I happened to see a man selling oceans
who, like a carpet merchant, was spreading them out and rolling them up, spreading them out and rolling them up,
though like a landscape seen in an afternoon nap
I can’t clearly remember what the market was like.

I was able to 
go to the ocean, without drowning, balanced,
because like a vessel just launched
I had a brilliantly drawn waterline.
But that lasted only for a while.
When we moved, I rolled it up again
and put it in the shed behind our new house
along with junk and forgot about it.

From the crack by the door of the shed a seagull
suddenly flew up this morning, flapping its wings, to my consternation.
Reviving at this late date — what can I do?
What can I do with the ocean
that has started flooding the backyard
without even giving me time to redraw the waterline that has peeled off?

Kazue Shinkawa