Sticking to your place
Words fly high:
"A crow with her tiny new borns
has nested on my shoulder
that is why I can't go anywhere"
I believe your crowing
over your strength
But tomorrow morning
How can you dare
To look at sun's eyes
You, snowy old man !
2
The first ball
Threw away my hat
The next ball
Cut my ear
the third ball Upon
I go blind.
There is no end to the rain of balls…
At noon
Nothing is survived from snowy man.
3
Ragged snowy men
With tattered hats and shawls
Crumpled on the benches of parks:
Street sleepers
Under a sudden snow.
4
Soft snow
On the bud of a white poplar:
The tug of war between spring and winter.