A View. Poem by Dagmara Anna AuraDagimar

There on the horizon forest
with the sky is touching,
houses such small, that they,
are located in a hand.
By the sandpit, a dog
is chasing the cat
and a swing is creaking
with everyday sound

enlivening silence
which in the morning got up.
The view from a few levels
for my eye, is revealing secrets
of the nearby dustbin.
There the prosaic aspects of life
are encountering the man,
gloomy tragedy not one is touching.

Not you? What of it?
It isn't changing never mind.
You can have pricks, that you
are looking as the spectator
and you to help not able
and you don't want.
Now, you can do, for the present,
what you only will want.

What for you a trouble,
worry oneself and have a dither?
Perhaps however get rid,
of your mirror,
or else you will see
other reflection, accidentally.
Of not oneself, a life
will draw the surprise for you.