Yes! Itís me

A scarlet line emerges
From my hurt index finger,
Doodling an enigmatic outline;
A Ďsomeoneí glistens
On the aerial canvas;
My arid world traps me,
In my self-made
I see a lost path unroll,
A rugged way,
Yet a red carpet for us,
Which meanders deep into
A silver-leaved wood,
Assuring a no-autumn season;
I see two of us together,
Move ahead in the glory
Of argent rays
Rushing through
The trellis of foliage
Wet with last nightís dew;
I can see you smile,
I can hear you laugh,
The breeze helps me
In ruffling your curls,
We promise to be
Together forever;
Your voice fades
In the train whistle,
We disappear,
In the curling smoke
Of the engine screaming
Through meadows and cities,
The spiraling smoke escalates
Me, higher and higher,
Itís then when I hear
A sudden thud?
Someone has slipped,
I guess:
Someone has been hurt,
But who?
I find myself staring
At the autumn struck wood,
Where are you?


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