- welcoming weather changes -

A creaky rocking chair
and a few tired records,
playing
in old-fashioned boredom,
narcotize me.
...and I stand,
under an Indian ink sky
that threatens to blow
old souvenirs away.

In a way, I imagine
that an explosion
would make my days lighter,
pulverizing laden pots
and their corrupt content.
...Finally ,
they would all be
scattered like the ashes
of an old enemy.

Yet,
getting rid
of a long-lived ball and chain
and especially
of the fallen foe's corpse
deserves respect,
so clad in black tonight,
I will dance
and gently wave
to the dust - flying
like moths in the wind -.