times, and a compass

by walterdoege

yesterday after sundown, a rainbown color sky…coming back home, the streets were some paths to walk and move…at some point I could see a sparkling full moon…with my fitfteen minute hourglass I spend fifteen minutes searching for my one hour glasshour…put it near one window…the full moon was high at skies, and with my old compass I could track the times…after sometime of serching for it…the tempest, nine months later…arranged my house, and books, and papers…in some foggy way…the time I spent watching to that full moon, I could notice my old compass and my old wooded flute among a sort of hills of books near that window…brighty moon light…such an amazing night!…I keep on going on my own pace, but the compass is so old and so fragile…I feel I must show to the compass, from where the full moon sets…the same horizon point when the sun sets everyday…some geography of sentiment