The storm heard our cry
The night was calm
We slept like logs
Waking up to the morning walk,
We met invaders
Lake flies – celebrating an early Christmas,
Formed a thick dancing cloud in the space
They tapped our faces as we walked by in haste
Just tap tap tap on our faces in unwanted invitation
We wrote in our minds
But the hands didn’t do the same
We sat and watched
We thought, got tired of thinking
We ate. Drank. Laughed.
We admired – this secluded place
“It’s good for an affair,” someone said.
“Yeah…and running away from creditors.”
See, when words evade writers, they talk – sensible nonsense
And they laugh. They just laugh and talk.