Scenery

about a child and a grown-up on the same stage

Falling catkins,

big, fluffy, blooming,

flakes spinning between branches,

dissolving in the lake

and on my frail smile

 

I was sipping the snow,

fresh soot on my sleeves,

walking like a lead soldier,

wings of smoke on my shoulders.

A yellow light fell over me

from the attic’s window

over the street.

Someone was surely watching...

I began to run in circles

believing I could fly

with my fist clasped on a sunlight handlebar

 

Now the snow is colder,

the coffee pot sits on the window,

it swallows thick and rare snowflakes.

Maybe someone is watching.

The icy lake burns in my eyes,

I light up a cigarette

and hide the smoke with the curtains

 

Author's Note

This poem is about a magical mirror...looking towards the future, looking towards the past, two persons on the same stage, two seconds united