Ane Brun Changing Of The Seasons
He falls asleep on her chest
the best sleep he´d ever met
nevertheless he dreams of some stranger´s caress
so he awakes and he knows
maybe someone else is supposed
to meet his hazy anticipating eyes
he draws the curtains aside
unfolding the first morning light
he glances at his disenchanted life
restlessness is me, you see
it´s hard to be safe
it´s difficult to be happy
it´s the changing of the seasons
he says ”I need them”
I guess I’m too Scandinavian
the relief of spring
intoxication of summer rain
the clearness of fall
how winter makes me reconsider it all
restlessness is me, you see
it´s hard to be safe
it´s difficult to be happy
and then she awakes
reaches for the embrace
he decides not
to worry about seasons again
