At the great wood's mouth,
by the deep cave's door.
I listened to something
I had heard before. 

The wood's mouth.
In a field I am the absence.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.
And in silence I observe 

When I walk I part the air
and always the air moves in.
To fill the spaces
where my body has been... 

I close my eyelids.
There was nothing more to say.
I've seen it all before.
But, I [bad word] in silence,
summer melacholia.
The air shivered against my skin.
Dark leaned into my eyes. 

Those threatening clouds.
The sweet music of the summer rain.
The mist in early hours.