Winter
031
The influx of the sound of broken springs, is dampening. Lights out now and time to go to bed, yet again. The cold draft runs over the wooden floor with its cracks.The wall paper screams forgetting! One day it is all good, most days it is not good at all. Where is this coming from, this winter blues? Even reading some Japanese poems doesn't cheer me up.Not watching the movies, or reading a book, having dinner with a friend, nothing can soften this emotion.
Oh, this blues. I was maybe expecting someone else to take me out of it as the skies getting darker, why doesn't she call?Why so dreary, hibernating deep down in the cave having dry crackers and weak tea.
Oh, this blues, missing the African drums and the bright blue skies, the fresh smell.But, alas, not the time, not the time...