~CRK
Enquiet
IV
Enquiet
Pages flutter under my pen
words get tangled inbetween
phantoms of flowers shimmer along the ground
as rifts of light, pink, yellow, blue
There is nothing here
But somehow it’s peaceful
Why is that?
When there is earth devoid of life
seeing ephemeral lights
dance around you in hope
somehow is consoling, assuring
while blizzards just erase anything
that could ever materialize
dragging you back again
to the cold of your heart
A sneeze escapes me, and
I put my helmet back on
They may not be real flowers,
but perhaps I’m allergic
What is there to say?
Obviously there’s no one here
no one to ask
to make reports and documents
from the inferred is to be
no better than a fantacist
but I suppose that’s what
I’ll have to be in order
to document the paths of the Andromeda
As the first place along my stop
there is not much else to say
the flowers present themselves as illusions
the sky paints itself blue
What next, now?