from afar, birds and
the lanterns of the town
old, my old sorrows again
Mid-October
with the scent of the vague season
forgotten jealousy and weak love
silent flowers and
the air and the trees
the glowing silence
stained with melancholy,
solitude and possessiveness
people in the streets
As water flows,
so do the rivers of language
follow the serpent's trail
through the valleys
past the meadows
with a heart of faint doubt
to greet the day
And embrace my tears.