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