Standing under the lamp post
I look up and sigh
Wandering inside the rolling windows
I look around and find, sometimes
Just twinkling mysteries like so many other things
I figure out that I can figure not
I almost forget them sometimes too
and then I remember to remember
In love of lost wonder visits
from terraces, from the snow
from train rides and bumpy ones too
they never seem to change
For they say everything changes
and everyone goes one day
they somehow manage to stay
far far away
Lone together they all shimmer
making pictures and constellations my friends know of
I make of them pretty flowers and angles
they are beautiful with another meaning
Probably they stare
killing time in what slow motion
We and our lives just mere dots
And may be, I am a polka dot afterall
