"Flatness Endless"

The green field of my childhood hospital
Where a silent road-roller stood rusty for years
I always wanted to ride it
Till one fine morning it was gone
Gone for ever
Away into the unrolled digits of time

I always had my way with rollers
Or rollers had their way with me

Now that there is perfect flatness around me
I go back to my disappeared road-roller
In the curves of my childhood

Another green field emerges from the curves
A field with a lot of talking, a lot of sitting, standing and lying
A field that holds me, held me, beheld me
Now falls silent in absence
There are no rollers anymore
Nor is there a single curve left

But the field wants to embrace me
Whenever I see it
I walk away in anxiety
One of these days I will go back to it
Knowing full well
There is no going back to it

I will hold the grass in my fingers one last time
Twirl the stems and let them go
Once and for all

They will be my witnesses
Witnesses rolled out of absence...