ALONE ON THE MOUNTAINS

All around my eyes, the Sun
kept on talking alone
with its thousand tongues.

I heard a singsong,
probably a hum from a bug or such,
but got bodily warned

in bitter disappointment
that it came from my own
blank stomach.

There was an ill
to be devised from the heights
on the feet of the hill.

They have welcomed the newly-arrived
with a dish of fish
and a plate of spinach.

Then I thought that if I once were a god,
first thing I would bend to my will
is that days would never go past us so fast.

But I myself needed my rest,
picked out a frayed couch and stood still
at last.