
I thought,
could it be summer now?
But I am not
searching for hope.
Or those wistful
days from long ago.
Just for what
is around me.
And a pen
for spilling words.
Aimed at
finding the way,
from all directions.

I thought,
could it be summer now?
But I am not
searching for hope.
Or those wistful
days from long ago.
Just for what
is around me.
And a pen
for spilling words.
Aimed at
finding the way,
from all directions.