Ane Brun

He falls asleep on her chest
the best sleep he?d ever met
nevertheless he dreams of some stranger?s caress
so he awakes and he knows
maybe someone else is supposed
to meet his hazy anticipating eyes
he draws the curtains aside
unfolding the first morning light
he glances at his disenchanted life
restlessness is me, you see
it?s hard to be safe
it?s difficult to be happy
it?s the changing of the seasons