On the veranda, where November comes to dance,
A hand opened the door, she saw, I was dancing with her.
Like ants marching in order, as if queuing for food. As light enters the crack of a window, in a world that is said to be bustling and happy.
Beside the tevelisi, you sit in tranquillity,
In front of the small table, facing the glass, smiling and marveling.
"There is a secret of fortitude in silence," you say, beaming,
And I hear Adele songs.
Stories play out in soft shades of things to come,
A door opens to the real world,
November, please be better, on the veranda I welcome hope,
In this place, I walk among the endless rocks.
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