cloud floating,
sea dreaming
of the blossoms of
the breeze,
love, the song
has got restless
like the wind,
it is time to
burn the
alleys and
the sun,
the sea sweeps out
songless and
murmuring to
a heavy sky,
roots that have
shrunk, surrendering
flotsam and jetsam
to the sands at
low tide,
cry for the
rain,
spring, no
longer distant,
waits for a
morn of warming
sun,
you, lover of
the spring,
wait for the
crocuses to
breathe
love.