Blue · Faith · Kiss

Autumn

Every time I come close
you grow quiet.
This is how I am –
all surrounding.

You – so distant…
Do I frighten you,
man of water,
with my becoming?

Leaves are falling.
It is the beginning
of the last autumn on
my left hand.

My right hand is buried
in a convent garden.
Will you visit me
in the summer?

Almost all the words
have been written.
We need only to lay them
in sweet nest of lantern.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s