On the Eve Before Winter

I was staring on a heap

Of photographs and letters

That supine in the vast

Vertex ground of this tranquil

Dark deserted place

While I stood among the sluggish

Figurines that dwells and

Stares valiantly on every step I made.

I sighed seeing them standing there

Without life, without warmth

To give me comfort on this autumn

Night while you are away from me.
What hurts is not having you

Beside me to hold my hands

And assure me that everything

Is alright while the moon

Shone on the east

On a pale sad yellow color

And the leaves of aspen reap

And flew and collected upon my feet.

I will stay here tonight to

Hear the cicada's opus

To melt the burning

Pains inside my heart while

I wait for the first fall of snow

That will froze my bleeding heart.