autumn's child

 

on autumn twigs spring sways
cant you feel emerald may?
emerald may on golden-red alley
was it far ago, when we met on that wintriness?
our two abandoned hearts
cold, oscillating with jars, twisted in tongues..
your handicraft was your only beloved one for long index of time
while me, wrote verses, sake selftherapy
reflecting  my past seven black springs..
on this january calm eve, tequilla freed words from our lips
so sincere so folly, so airy-fairy,...... so infantile?
we were two indians exchanged goodies
Hiro Kone..
you gave me yours, small figures webed from  wire
i gave you mine. words, scattered, deranged and barely rhymed..
Why such tenderness?
And what to do with it, ..
what to do if not
cease to ride dead horse
but rejoicing in the hands
sing sing sing this old sweet song
while spring sways on the autumn' s twigs
sweet young thing
Autumn's  child
Raise your head