AS A GAME OF BUTTERFLIES

To get back

on the river banks

and then forget

sacred ash

carried away by the wind.

Then when flickers the leaf

and heart

little story from the lips comes out,

when  shadows await

on the coast

a feeling is getting stronger in the bosom.

To get back

among sunflowers

in the minds of the poem

which it came.

Out of the darkness to emerge,

from the drunkenness of old red wine

on the bank of the river,

to see me,

under the tree’s crown shadow will lean on.

In the boat are all memories

When the first wave comes,

a powerful moment as the game of butterflies

remains,

on the bank of the river to get back.