…everything is changed.
The window spotted mottled stippled appaloosa
With ferocious drops
Kamikaze-rain.
The tiny waters – pearl pebbles of my turtle –
Regular resembling stars
On the glass
With vacuum
Outside
Oh, outside
Colours rich lovely red caravans on busy journey
No, ships
Rosy ships
Soundlessly gliding and so swift swift swift
Yet slow
Sky lightning treasures like in ancient paintings
Smutty-bright heavens watery blue smoky dimmed
But burning burning burning
Violet purple orange crimson it is no colour it is light it is matter still
Glowing-cool damp coals
Black tree rises in front of them
Stretching its arms towards them wait for me
Be comforted, tree, with
A pigeon
Sole
Perched on you.