outside, inside, drops of thought, downfalls of rain, gathering in pools, spilling the carpet, running in zigzags until they reach the doorstep to fall down the stairs, scattered, scattered, to curl up in a pile of red and yellow autumn leaves that weren't flying any more, their wings soaked by the rain, turning to pulp, like the plums in the field, someone gathered them and forget them, left them there, a step from the street, to decay, day by day, turning colours, changing seasons, the fields, earth again, broken again, to be ready for the winter wheat, for the last deed of the year

on a table, yellow roses, yellow like spring summoned in stupor, they flew with a plane, came from the other side of life, imagine that, a plane filled with roses, nothing but roses, taken from the one shore, brought to another, to unfold there, to be sold there, to bring the spring into the autumn wind, buy your dreams, they are 10 cent a piece, wrapped up in layers of plastic, stored in metal containers, too precious to be true

those carriers of goods, on their way back, they might carry baskets of pumpkins, red and orange, blue berries, green cabbage, stacks of snow, you never know, in this time, take a paper and it tells you of hostages taken of hurricanes striking of oil prices rising of refugee ship sinking of stock markets mounting of bombs hitting of earthquakes jolting all in one day in one slight day, issues and issues, drowning in voices, in pictures, in instant news flashes showing the scene broadcasting the scream neglecting the why that lies yonder, the reason the connection the schemes behind the scene

in between, throughout, the world moving, commuting in constant ceaseless circles, all those planes, all those cars, all those people going, from here to there, eastwards westwards, up and down, all those houses, waiting for their hosts to come home, like dogs waiting, like cats waiting, all day all day, all this empty spaces, all these drive through places, and how would it feel if the world would come to a halt, just for one day, just for one white day

no cars no planes no trains no trucks no tv no radio no clocks no calls

no crashes no crimes no cruelties no news no news no news

streams of seconds of silence

inversed vision


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