Mon Vert

I see myself again glazing to unopened shutters And curtains glowing red behind Because there are a hundred layers Before we see the clouds Outside the blur The green spring The moss, a haze I shall be Swimming Pretending the waves  Are blue  And When the stars go out at night I'll be looking at it With a lamp in my hand they will see it And it will be Like a mirrored view.

  I can feel this slight pour Of rain Outside Like Its touch on the grass Its damp kiss on the earth Its rising  from the cross  Our  Vox, Et Praeterea nihil That holds the silence Of our even breaths in the vacancy Of air In the coarsing  light The stellar, My Celeste, understanding underneath you, Is sadness, In its quaint tone There is always something  To seek  If  If only the sky can be true.

Counting weeks Past the roof  of viewing obstruction The trees are cold Standing unnoticed My feet goes happily dancing Under blankets the bad poems Cannons To care! The great things cannot be ignored.

Been falling In this movie scene Accidents Swift The wind is moving swiftly But I could not hear My ears are all in with the music Life is going slowly I feel no need to find it.