Door
shut. Music ceased.
The air’s still and wet, like tears
before breaking out.
Pen
empty of ink.
Page empty of poems. Outside
shower of pollen.
Dull
hospital ward.
White doves on the balcony.
Τhe patient’s smiling.
The
howl of the wind.
Leaves drifted along like dreams
carried to their graves.
Young withered flowers
in the pots. Water glistening
in the watering can.
Dawn
bathed in clear rain.
Dry earth blooms anew like souls
seeking eternity.
Big
killer bumblebee
now dead. Its wings just a toy
in the hands of ants.
A
small butterfly
I thought I saw in the snow.
Illusions of summer.
The
downpour has stopped.
Water-drops pour off the branches
like incessant tears.
The
fly on the web.
The hands that crushed the spider.
The dreams that escaped.