I chase numerical dreams for vocation
ever grasping for untouchable horizons,
counting sand granules
piling leaves in size order
according to shades of ochre.

Then release
to hobby with words
build castles of sentimentality,
sparkle yonder meadows with dew
wetted by inner calligraphy.

Poetry to feather my dust -
echo pain-stained syllables
resounding morosely bound verses,
liberating caved bats
flapping to rhythms
pen strokes.

Launching boulders
onto unvarnished whiteness
once rolling to and fro
on my emotive wolds,
grasslands may grow again.

Pasting tokens of lost love
shrouding texts with torment
stamping lingering wraiths,
least they not prance
for a-while.

Worlds drip-dry here
under auroral poetry
a chance to breathe;
fresh crisp air -
of expressiveness,
I arrived - stayed.