Imaginations

I pass your home in a slow Vermilion dawn.
The blinds are drawn, and the windows are open
The soft breeze from the meadow
Is like your breath on my face.
All day long, I walk in the intermittent rainfall
Picked a vermilion tulip in the deserted park
Bright raindrops cling to its petals
At five o' clock it's a lonely colour in the city
I pass your home in a rainy evening
I can see you faintly in between lighted walls
Late, at night I sit before a white sheet of paper,
Until a fallen vermilion petal quivers before me.