A Fictitious Day
Today it’s different outside, not that clumsy, wet, sullen morning
My wish is to see the same sunset which I witnessed awestruck from my attic,
I catastrophize each day thinking of you far away,
Which way did you come back to my home again...?
Come don’t go! Here I narrate ‘This Day’; so beautiful so charming yet so alone
Lend me your touch one more time so that I take you to my attic still frozen and plundered;
I see the clouds playing the game of shadows with the dying sun, and there a child sitting deserted waiting for his morning run…
I see an old toothless ...