Assumptions

Through flickering glints of light and breezes,
The day steals through, toward morning bound,
With a tramp’s aplomb and a master's eases,
I stitch my verse on the dark, smooth ground.

I watch the glow of the lights, the gleaming,
From shaky spots I compose what's true,
And I change as I feel the streaming
Of unearthly dreams, into dust and rue.

Words made of wind—the pods of chaos,
Inside there's slowness, a hum refined,
Schredinger's laugh, the squeak of Mickey Mouse,
In all that noise finds my flexible mind.

I watch the glow of the lights, the gleaming,
From shaky spots I compose what's true,
And I change as I feel the streaming
Of unearthly dreams, into dust and rue.

A shaky echo of the spin eternal,
Where thoughts and straying feelings run,
Where options are but views on sight,
Where as a mirror of the brief and vernal,
The brain assumes, when all is done,
That I am human and sad tonight.

I watch the glow of the lights, the gleaming,
From shaky spots I compose what's true,
And I change as I feel the streaming
Of unearthly dreams, into dust and rue.

http://stihi.ru/2026/04/29/4436