“Who is it
That lets me see but not get close
Who is it
That put the sugar up so high
Knowing that I can almost taste it
But just ever so slyly
Raising it, pulling it up higher…”
——A mob of protesting ants
In waiting
Beads of perspiration are stretched to thin strands of silk
Following hope
They’re knitted into a tight web
All the preparation
For your arrival
Seems that
Nothing is eternal
In spring
Look at the blossoms
In summer
Listen to the sea
In autumn
Enjoy the breeze
In the winter
Sleep
Day after day
Year after year
East, south, west, north
Up, down, left, right
Past, present, future
And more, and more
How big can imagination be?
I only need
A place of shelter
A crescent moon
A gentle breeze
I can
I can