In the park
a child offers its mother a bright pebble.
The humble ponies sleep.
Golden spiders rain down
from the sun, a sparrow is flung
into the brightness
in the park of my heart everything happens
in the shabby park of my heart.
The child does not find its mother, the pony whisks its tail,
the mother appears
out of the hiding, the child cries
the sun falls
falls down from the trees,
I close my eyes,
light settles on my face
as if listening to me.