memories

When the memories will raise their hands
from the mire, pebbles and a sand bed
beside a "known yesterday"
that had seen a fatigued evening
through the bamboos
... and
the scattered sunbeams
those have always been honest
with the transparency of my window
shall let you know that
the winter has become stubborn here
and so the nights in this room.

They love you, they need you,
If not me..

V@@S..