Mirage, Poems from the English Countryside by Maggie Turner

Don't go!
Indeed, it is you 
The pure white clothes 
Worn next to the skin 
Your silky black hair 
Whirling about in the wind 
Wild and free
In a misty wilderness 
No way to be found 

Wait a little 
I am coming 
To get ready for the ride

From east to west 
I step on and climb over 
A boat of rosy clouds 
One after another 
So as to 
Arrive here on time
To catch a glimpse of you

Your little blouse treading on air
I grab, I grab
Drained 
I lie back down 
Like an old man in the woods
Waiting to be heard 

*(4) Mirage, Poems from the English Countryside by Maggie Turner
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