Nothing is lost

Nothing is lost

Nothing is lost in space.

The traveller is dark with agony,

A polluted pond stinks of neglect,

A fresh fence is born,

Mother’s unkempt hair covers the milky child.

Clouds in the city

Do not scratch, screech; they travel,

Gloomy wherever they go,

Clear whenever they go.

The traveller cannot see the milk,

The oil, the wood,

Laughing right in front,

They are waiting to prepare the food.

The child vibrates,

Milk pours in,

Whitewashes the pond and the city

The visitor looks, walls are broken.

In space, nothing is lost.

23 July 2014