The wind is grabbing

trees outside my window

pushing them like an old man

on a wheelchair

Heavy

Slow

Unaware

of the surroundings

and the years that they carry on

their branches

they try to enter my space

invade my cosmic galaxy

with dancing leaves

on 13 pieces for a piano

trying to make the season

last longer than it should

but I don’t let them

come closer

I lock the doors

I close the windows

I shut the curtains

and I patiently wait

and I wait

for the first blossomed flower

giving birth to spring