Until the Storm Cools
/

At the end of the corridor.. A corner of silence
is calling me to warm up.
I will take off my wet –heavy coat .
The things are moving round me.. shaping themselves into
..A doll.. a swing.. rainbow colours .
I will close the window
may be the storm will die .
My shadow is lying on the ground-alone
Talking to me.. But I don’t understand him .
Mind disturbed ,
I walk towards myself
in the direction opposite the wind.
In this tranquility,
nothing breathes
except my memory.
The air is disturbing me
-shaping himself like a ball..
bubbles without colours.

Open another window…
on the fire yard
the fog is thick,
I can only see the ghosts of snow .
My mirror is approaching ..
I don’t know me !
!I’ll open my drawers
and scatter their belongings
…A pen.. a paper.. a broken brush
This is my childhood..
Hidden in my old things !!
Another labour..
And I’ll find me
Here and there.
Let’s Hold Tightly the Strings of Silence
Until the Storm Cools!!