to be awake at night not day
to spend the hours at work 'n' play;
the countless memories i dream
of talking trees and village greens.
red & white & city black
bonging clock in the back;
threads of greyish tan & white
praying for their silent flight.
guards at dusk & at dawn,
uniformed in blue upon.
me with walking stick in hand
unfolding photos of this land.
the silent beauty of her face
is his lantern of this race.
`T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova
20Aug'03
