Alone in a window, watching a strange environment.
Lonely as the chair being sat upon, there arrives a melancholy
state of mind.
Leaves fallen down upon a brick hard ground, plants shooting
up through special little holes all their own.
Objects moving in and out behind me, I can see them from a
corner of my mind.
Listening to sounds, but not caring to delve into their
origins, I continue to sit by this glass cold window and
reflect on life.
Everything is there in a little country store and I can pick
and choose whatever I like.
Mostly, I choose basic items - things that are necessary to
sustain this life.
Once in a while I splurge and try a delicacy to find out what
it's like, I enjoy, relish and swish it around in my mind.
Yes. My mind is a little country store where I can pick and
choose thoughts and ideas and create my own little state of
mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem