The wind is not what it seems

The rainbow is not as colorful either

As two dreams

What improves past there

Is perhaps impossible

So impossible

Perhaps.


I can chase a balloon

Or hide in my room

I can plant my summer seed

Or assume it is all a dream

What ever hot spot there is

Must be like a fire

In this cold and dry dessert

Fire flowers bloom

As nature repels an empty space

Putting something out

In some special place.