A happy day is coming
like a ship does after months
An April day is arriving
at the end of November.
And I grow closer to the sea,
I doubly become brother of the fish.
I light the wood in the home
that saw the storm glow
that guides the course of these months.
A sunny day is coming,
a day of old goblins.
A ferocious bird is arriving
buzzing enjoying your smell.
A time of rabbits is arriving.
And anxiety pokes me
digs at me deeply, here, in the soft part.
It just digs at me to dig,
as if for the happy day that is coming
to sink deeper.