white clouds
wide open mouths of darkness
biting mouths in ancient negatives
snow fallen
down as a present
into the
white sea of an opening in a book
tiny lads keep
on sailing the sea on their paper yacht
the brave ones never
reach their end
the waves of
limerick carrying on rocking
rocking water
so happily plays
my finger sails in
the calmness of tight hair
how can a soul
exist in a
factory-made teddy bear
or in a negative or
in a cloud inside of a mouth
how can a soul sail
among one´s dreams
a man next to me
nods outside who knows
and then, an ectopic beat
drawn by a light spot on the window
a flash far down in
a valley
once upon a time it
was
the only mark of a
place my soul might have settled
the kind a place i
have been looking for
i´m standing in a school yard
so early in the
morning nothing has started yet
so close to reach
to the end
the man next to me
just looks and sees
not the ancient me
but my eyes flicking
amid the clattering
of the train
trees seen earlier i
now just ignore
my dream no longer
throbs
staring at the
bottom of the sea
holding up,
untrusting, holding up
the landscape hard
as i can
the
lads will arrive paddling into harbour
with
broccoli buds, oh, with faces so dour
our party, this
modest celebration is all we´ve got
in the blossoms the
buds smaller than a pin´s head
buds ripen by the
sun
and we row to fetch
them
the sea heaving,
just about to freeze
upon us a cloud like
a blanket
and like our
light
a spot blinks
Löysin tämän! Lili
VastaaPoistaYes you did, ms Marple. Congrats.
VastaaPoista