Passing-Wind>>> Poem by Manonton Dalan

wind has torn all fabric
that waves on every stick
yet some people come to play
imagine where suppose to be
when those colors fly away
flapping sound like wings
that never has taken off
but preserve few memories

clear sky today beautiful
clouds melted and vanish
pine needles still upright
waiting for blackbirds to come
newly painted houses shine
frequent tourist bus stop
and hear clicking cameras
i never expect anybody stay