the last shadow
disappears from the
trees
the sky sheds off the
clouds
complain rains
melancholic day
drowned in alcohol
stays sunk
until the dog at the
corridor
of my garden howls
brings the intoxicated
day to a halt
everything around
changes
for some moments
a gap
an in-between
it will eventually get
back
clouds will hang again
shadows will re-appear
water is the rock of
Sisyphus
curse, curse, curse
what bliss this curse
is
I walk down the corridor
stairs
my legs have rain-sounds
jhhum jhhum jhhum
filled with the glory
of falling
all absolutes become
obsolete
blurred, nonsense
I lie flat in my
garden
rains cover me...
moments with openness
without shelter
the dog howls
the sound, blunt and
content
In this gap, curse or
bliss
I know
Last is never the last.
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