epilogue: red summer

And maybe

if I’m inspired

I’ll write some lines

about a red sun rising

from the smoke of ancient forest history.


And maybe

you’ll read it,

somewhere, somehow

and wherever you are these days

you’ll be touched by the sight of a burning setting sun,


And maybe,

if you’re ready, 

you’ll break the eternal

silence resting heavy on our ears

to say I love you in the heat of night.