along time ago, a wind already brushed grass,
with rain are washed, to clean
and clouds then again covered my world
because you are writing me in letters
...
in the cosmic house mirrors cracked
heavenly the Venus and ancient Mercury
meeting half way, to new reflections in the way,
...
and where the sun is now?
you are waiting all morning,
did not come.
and you are sad, and now
...
the summer and forest
roe, trees
wild life
in grass thickets
...
wet streets.
after the rain,
was fresh air,
and on the roadway
...
on roofs rows of aerials
nowhere one can see birds
it is a place of the foggy dimness
of the day
...
a bit too the heat
is too hot
here
is now
...
so ordinarily you said
brush your hair into the crown
or dissolve it long to the wind
...
week, two, it little?
sometimes one a day
it already too much
...