THE SAME NUMBER
The hardly open eyes
The hand on the other shore
The sky
And everything that happens there
The leaning door
A head sticks out
From the frame
And through the shutters
You can see out
The sun fills everything
But the trees are still green
The falling hour
It gets warmer
And the houses are smaller
The passersby go less quickly
And always look up
The lamp shines on us now
Looking far away
We could see the light
Coming
We were happy
That evening
At the other house where somebody waits for us
I am planning to respond to each line in the poem, to continue the poem.
Although it wouldn't appear to be a conversation, it sort of is.
More on that soon!
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