From the Window
Last night
it was a whispering wind
All the windows
I had left open
An impressive poetry
of the wind in
the mosquito net
So said Jean-Paul Sartre
With your geometry
I was doing red and blue
calligraphy
Now it's a sullen morning
Sky wearing a cloud coat
Nowhere a speed boat
However
I regard it as good
Had the life been
a monotony of
only swollen mosquito nets
the calligraphy would
obviously have lost
its curvy geometry
There
you are bending down
picking flowers
from the ground
the brown gown
touching the long grass
I am a woodpecker
with a crush
forgetting my breakfast
The door bell rang
I came to
The newspaper
A political leader arrested
for taking bribe
A scribe under threat
Rattling cups and plates
in the kitchen
In the distant park
a young girl engrossed
in a chatting session
with the sunflowers
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