Parading

coming down all day without purpose

Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought

With one dear friend we go up the highest mountain

Poked my head around the corner

Carpe diem but don’t translate carpe ‘seize’.

In the dark room the black

February, month of despair,

You probably think I’m nuts saying the mountains

Some other century where we were alive,

I give you an onion.