PAIN

As if rib-cage –

perceived pain-drops pouring in –

because enough pain makes a pool,

with rain-drops.

Inside remote of heart, the blue

steps in with its breathing, and

forgets to rebel, as if it is locked

inside green edge over cold wind.

Fruits do not get maturity,

in some weighing scale,

images quieted by mind’s mirror.

Clouds wandering far below.