For once I know the time is coming to take my dreams
off the night screen, then fold them neat. Perhaps,
some will need extra handling. Roll them tight.
Separate them carefully from socks and underwears.
I too know, flowers and rivers should be in the same box
with green lake and hazy mountains. Shady pathways,
giant trees, all the green lanscapes should be done
in other luggage.
After that, in the wee hours all I have is quietness;
a broken mind to console.
© Era Fiyantiningrum