From My Lookout
I eat my porridge
drink a cup of tea
I wonder if I can free
my mind from perceiving
human irrationality
the landscape
is dressed ind white
so pure and fragile
no one has yet come
defiling it
I’ve been measuring your steps compared them to my own
Imitating every gesture every move whenever I felt alone
I have watched your eyelids close and from my lookout I’ve kept watch
Armed with notepad and pen marking down where I’ve felt your touch
crystal clear I can hear
the silence which hasn’t yet disappeared
Isicles are hanging
from the gutter
And one remaining bird
is flying in the air
It forgot to migrate
just before winter
I’ve been measuring your steps compared them to my own
Imitating every gesture every move whenever I felt alone
I have watched your eyelids close and from my lookout I’ve kept watch
Armed with notepad and pen, marking down where I’ve felt your touch
I have heard you breathing so quietly in the night
I have sensed your subtle scent that felt me with delight
I covered myself in feathers and cloths but in spite of my disguise
I wouldn’t go flying off to a dreamland to a dreamland where you might be out of sight