Sky of Grief

In an autumn sky, you can see a horse riding on a dolphin's ear and a mustard flower, eveporating like the smoke of a seed. Like the fruitless flower of a lotus, the earth takes its shape. The autumn sky moves backwards to the vineyards and our soft fever, scratches our body with fruits of grapes. Some of our stories of grief look like the closed doors. Some of our sweat smell like olive grapes. In the autumn, dance of girls change like the cloud of winter. And the sky looks green, where we can see people running like the beat of drums.