the end of summer

 

 

of course

the summer had to end

and the thunderclouds that came

are sent

 

the drawings

that you painted, so intricately -

are left upon the pebbles, to be washed off by

the sea

 

the summer

is only once

the next never comes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hotel Kupari

28.9.84