Sharpness
of a grain of sand
touches
the nostalgia in
the eye
chrystalizes
the escaping snow
an oil paper umbrella
hurt by
the winter
that took french leave
the fragrance of plum
torn and incomplete
between the dark and damp
narrow tunnel
the pearl of ideas
polished
the wind that
can't be caged
is searching
youthful days
the hasty footsteps
the tethered ideals
in a pond
in a city
caressing
old porcelain
a pool of water
aiming at
the color of willow
on the other
side of the dreamscape.