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This Scarecrow

The books are rocks
in the land of myself;
the thoughts are flowing water,
my path winds
from nothing to nothing

I glimpse,
sitting on my shoulders

Everything is a mirage
of its parts

Its parts are the way
the mind works

Leave it to itself!

Complicated worries
usually have simple solutions,
though nothing may change

Calm nothingness
holds this scarecrow

The wind howls

Fri vers (Fri form) av Ingvar Loco Nordin VIP
Läst 13 gånger
Publicerad 2022-11-01 09:33

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