August and Snow
I have opened the window and inhaled the summer
most of the houses I see are empty the owners have gone
back to their country where they have died while
waiting for surgery, heart and cancer and so on.
An empty house is a sad sight; their owner had bought them
cheaply and the spent much time repairing them, but with illness
and old age beckoning they did go back to where
their hearts belonged, the pub and the betting shop, what do
I know, never had a place to call my own except where I live now.
I remember my childhood and milking cows at a farm
but I`m no longer sure if my youth is something I have read in a book
and as I have never cared deeply enough I have let it slide.
I was in love once and when rejected nearly jumped into the waterfall
and the years when a was abused at an orphanage while waiting for mother
to come home from the sanatorium. I dreamily think of silent snow falling
gently cooling the weather so I can go for a walk.