my gaze follows
a seagull that leaves
following a ship that leaves
following a call of the old port
Neither the first nor the last time, unnecessary wasting of words. I’m locking the door and turning toward the interior of an empty room. In a dark, I’m searching for the path to bed, although I passed there so many times that I could cope with it without the signposts.
Night without a voice. As if the whole Universe had melted into the silence. Occasionally, a sound of wheels somewhere in the distance. There’s no whisper of waves, nor a breath of wind. Nothing. Just me and a joy of my neglected keyboard. She missed me.
where ducks are nesting
soft moonlight ( © Issa)
leaves rustling instead of sheats
in my calmness he can’t find salvation