Looking away
the shattered dream
into the reflection of the lake
of the storm
and all is lightning
as with the wisdom of hindsight
lines of stationary cars
on boring roads
like snake skin
abandoned
and your hands
lifted towards the sun
while the humidity rises
tired heart
loaded by my forty years
fly
fly away
kite with a broken string
that will never come back
looking away
waiting in vain waiting in vain
