December is a falling axe
The branches unaffected
By the blunt axe
The flailing windows
The ununderstood words
Never get a chance again;
December
Like the failing youth
Is an old microphone
Snow melts away
But never mounds up to anything
December like an old silly man
Waits for his young lover
to return………..
The trees ignore its swing
The sprouting flowers
Overcome its snow
The thoughts like unbaked cakes
Lie in its graveyard
I can say
The cooked soup
Never likes the frozen uncut cakes
The cooked soup
Wanted to flow;in the
red mouth
to the red stomach
December
You wait for nothing
For white feathers surrounding you;
You remember me angels
But I have to say goodbye to you
GOOD BYE!