the evening is
devastated
all dew evaporated
into cold
air
the moon comes
like a wanderer
on such a lonely hour
i bought new blue
shoes
and i ask myself
where i am going?
These are poetic experiments. Man's quest for the poetic element never ceases. He is always caught in the eye of awe. He does not make the rules now. The rules change depending on the emotion that time and space feed him. He must see everything with his wide eyes gaping. The beginning of poetry too, like philosophy is wonder. Look and see. Do not stop wondering You are the poet. And everything is poetry. Wonder. Wander.
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