Slide

Sliding on poplar leaves

I’m heading for a fall

This dried yellowish rug

Is a trap and no small,

Leaves on the sidewalk

Carpeting the downway

Lay on the polished marl

Inviting me to sway,

At last, the downway ends

I find myself on the plane

I’m ready for the doctors

And don’t even feel no pain…

And unable to forget

This morning daydream

I will try to summarize

What these words mean:

And be ware you readers

Of this here remembering:

Even though it swiftly slides

One must always try standing…

28-8-2019 – 09.45