Piano is not for strumming
The smooth step-by-step-down
or a burst of mudslides
always have been side by side siblings
The coal burn out the night
The dawn emerges from the dark, soft and weak
like the damped hearts of chocolate biscuits
Not every day can erect
neither the hope of fingertips touching the dark
nor the motivation of daylight march
The gurgling of mud in swamp
has nothing to do with your empty stomach
but you cannot see the silent sink
There can be no word in a song
the uttered “ah” alone
can express the ship in stormy waves
The baton of lightning
flurries in the thunder and the wind and rain
The so-called curtain’s fall, is the rise of heavenly canopy
A dense mass of spectators
the faces are blocked with head down
The added coals continue burning