Days of the sun

i did look for
a poem in
a twenty seven
years of
days that
started with the sun
rising and ended
with it setting every
other day i waited
for the next
sweating breathless
afternoon
a silly orange luminescence
a clown outside my
white plain
windowpane a twenty
seven years and
will i ever
find a poem
in my days?

A light dislocation

on a bench
blue sea
red checkered shirt
you
look around
air boiled road
you look
waited
on the bench.

across the road
i see you
seek me
i see the sea
blind you the beam
spying
my fingers daze
a light ray
cross
slow
on gravity
i float
the ground a feather heap
green like grass
i see you
a still
a halo sun behind
a curved moon.

i float on a feather green ground
and then
the light ray
touch
the blueness out
an ugly yellow,
you turn to me.