Flowers At My Feet

Old ocean

Thou has lived through thousands of years

that time left

wrinkles on thine sandy forehead

Sunday afternoon.

P-o-e-m (1) - Fireflies

When the dim light of

the

streets turns orange is when

the connection between pieces of my soul become transparent

and melt

into the thin air

leave my soul with no gravity in the green shade

of

fireflies