I picked you up
after the fall, when moon
was burning.

Why did you call me
from the clouds?
Rain drenched, there was the
smell of earth soaked
guilt.

You didn't want to
share your secret of the
glorious war with me.

The call of peaks
was very strong. A crack in
Antarctica spells doom.
I watch the damaging of future
with grief.

Suddenly a fawn stops at
my glass door, like a light yellowish
color of dawn, gives me a
strange look.

Will we stand up again?