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Plant a seed anew,
Feel the soil in your hands,
Dusk all around you.
The moment extends,
A silence sharp, deafening—
What is seen within?
Steps on crunching leaves,
Mist, like a ghost, surrounds you—
The crows always lie.
Shadows are dancing,
Figures cursed in blue and green—
All forgotten names.
Fruits are decaying,
Feel it settle in your bones—
Swallows are gone.
A crackling stove,
The dying of the season—
Comfort in the night.
Lay yourself to sleep,
Count the spiders on the wall—
The pale moon arrives.
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