Couldn’t write the other day.
Not even my delighted sunshine which gave birth to sunbeams
On my small balcony
And could give me any lucky words to immortalize on a white sheet
Of bonded paper.
I laughed softly,
as I realized my search for them
Is as useless
As reopening an abandoned trainstation
On a sunday afternoon.
Simply count your last blessings,
As you wait for the train’s arrival.