driving back home
at the white bridge
the light of the sun
that later afternoon
blinds me, like
what i feel today
i close my eyes
see shadows
let them all inside
my heart,
i open my eyes
half asleep
letting all the shadows
simmer like
i am a dry earth
receiving a little rain,
thoughts run like water
boredom is the dryness
the ennui
fleeting memories
haunt like thoughts
coming back at me
with swords and scales.
'what am i doing here? '
i stop the car, get out from there
and stand on the side of the
white bridge.
'i am doing nothing'.
the water below is silent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem