Dreaming,
In sun-kissed haze
of calmer days,
Back when grey skies meant
no more than a brighter time ahead.

Sleeping,
At the first burning sky
of the third sunset of spring,
Waiting for seasons to change
and making them whisper by more quickly.

Thinking,
On the things that never
Mattered to anyone else,
While all else hurry past
hoping for another normal day,
I stay still,
Waiting for summer.