A boy running down stairs
Between block towers jumps
And lands on a field of green
His pants taking in the air
A bomb of colour yellow slips
Out and bounces off the ground
Into the sky like a rainbow
Pigeons fly out of his way
Cracking sticks on a dry soil
And flower seeds taken by
The wind refreshing sweaty armpits
While he leaps and leaps
Over stony earth pots that
Will be watered at sunset
And they know what is the time
It will take him to come home for dinner
By which the bubble gum tattoes
On his forearms will half-disappear
And re-appear in half again
On a tree trunk old enough
To have heard the tale of dragon crows
Not know to anyone anymore
Its ancestors, long extinct forests
Have sheltered these mythical creatures
Whose ghosts are still flying
On the arms of little kids
Trying to get somewhere
Before they can get nowhere
And in the end it doesn’t matter
Because they sleep the night
And dream away the end of time
Flying like a dragon crow
Behind their closed eyes.