The pigeons’ song

In the morn, I eavesdropped on the pigeons. They sang ‘today is curry, tomorrow is curry’.



A few nights ago I dreamt the moon was my home. I waded through a phosphorescent river and came across glowing fluffy white flowers and plants. I turned and saw Saturn in the sky, a moment later I noticed Saturn languidly rolling towards me through the lake. The days were fleeting and the moon’s terrain would periodically be bathed in light or shadow.