Looking at the Rain Dusk

I sit here. looking at the rainy twilight. no you. only wind and residual slip in the dim light.you where?

as a pen, I want to write poems in the odd lines, something that may very strange, and you call it: poetry

You also recalls the autumn leaves in the evening of poetry, a love who kissed your forehead?

let me sneak in a blue memories. so you know, there I miss you. always.

recalls the blue. the blue sky. blue dream. and also miss the blue. you're asleep on the canvas of my life.

canvas that you decorate with all the longing, has exhibited in the gallery. I looked at always. loving