Poetry
What to know
Immersed in scenes
Tomorrow is too late
Darkness of the night,
in the midst of
non-perfection –
is beyond all thought.
It goes its own way,
in every act – if
you remain silent
and abandon control.
Outside I hear
the grey rain on clay,
and the weight of
the trees on this earth.
Singing sorrows
and full emotions.
But time is short
for a perfect way.
In the loneliness
A song filled with new words
For a new year
Cold connections
You can mourn here
Running into the first snowflake
Walking by the river, on a cold day I thought of someone who loved me once. I wrote this poem.