We knew

The best skipping stones are already at the bottom of the lake

That we knew.

And we pick berries with stilts,

Gather blossoms we will never weave into our hair

Trail the golden rays setting over the fields

While our shadows grow longer than our selves

In dreams

We live in cities, forget where the rivers flow

Under a creased sky

From the air, water looks like sand

Knowing there is a plug in the mountains

And sentinels in the mist

‘What is wakening and what is death?’ – you ask

I shiver in the blooming night

The lake was a mirror and now it’s hollow

mouth that swallows, quivers and halts.

You trust in words, I trust in you

That we knew.

But we never trust a flower.