in an all surrounding
silence

-except some footsteps
down below-

i lay my head
and read and sit
and write in an
everlasting flow

would you remember
me then, dear?
as you lift your head
to stars

blow smoke away
and stroke your hair,
as you lay back
and look for Mars

oh
as ever,
i see you,
as you laugh towards me,
in words you get lost,
you're more of a writer
i see

for ever
and all i could leave
it behind,
the writing, the stories
and more

thus
for the proper and
decent state of mind

i can't but
return to this Shore.