On a rock
close to the sea
you place your tent.
You feel so free.
(and could not have done otherwise
for all the swamp around you!)
The dragonflies swirl and mate
chasing food, observing you.
The look
and ask "Who are you?"
The look and speak
"Who are you."
The water tells of depth
- of hidden life
and everchanging currents.
It calls you to go on.
It speaks "Farewell"
until you're gone -
You wonder
Is this real?
And just stand still.
You see the one
you're with
and think
"You're not needed here."
How can this be real?
Carelessly plays the sun
with clouds
Little children
forgetting time and space:
they go on,
they go on.
Taking every chance to laugh.
And then it rains.
You find your warmth
in some little dirty
tent.
