they sing

while the windsweeps weeping

through the firs

and the jungle cataracts gone dry colossal boulders mock

at the loneliness that becomes cuckoo

with every moment passed all alone

palpitation of the heart

rumbles unheard in clouds loneliness never sings

it weeps

as does the wind sighing through the firs

shedding leaves yellow dry and dead loneliness is a yellow wind leaves and dust

stillborn shrivelled lifeless

that sighs whispers murmurs

and whispers again

firs shedding leaves

dead,yellow and dry A lonely cloud stealing cotton from

the coal black clay fields below

lurks fluffy stark white

thick with its esoteric geometry

drifting out of some celestial laundry