I sit under the shade of velvet leaves,
pale tint of orange pours over the field.
Lately I have been finding fresh shoots
amongst the withering wildflowers of the past.
I have written a farewell letter to my Pain
and folded it like a blanket. Even if I am uncertain
like the crumpled laughter of the river
I must go straight ahead…
The velvet leaves rustle. The patches of light
dancing on my face somehow make me smile.
My paper plane drifts further and further –
sharp nose towards the burning edges of the clouds.