July 04, 2020

Darling ghost, the spring, the summer, the autumn and the winter. Every season in the paper comes true before my eyes, and I have to believe that it is a dream. Dream where I can be. What we seek is different. You look far in the sky and grasp knowledge in your head. I want to see the seasons before me and seek the wisdom scattered within. We are different, but still you are beautiful.

Your poet.