He spins the hourglass
with the yellow powder
and turns again tiny between the flannel.
He points a powerful binoculars
from his high window
rotating very slowly the fingers
to focus the world.
He spends his hours to sift over the things.
He is a storage cell of leaves
keys, snakes, delinquents, teeth
of the last Scottish dragons
that burnt without matches
the thieves of melons and strawberries.
His friend are cicadas
magpies and striped caterpillars
devouring any sweet vegetables
and spitting the bitter ones.
His uniform is in the shape of butterfly
and he has no more students on his side
but distant, perhaps yes and perhaps no.
As trade he taught the language
in the literal sense of the term
and how to correct its errors.
The most similar image to him
is the adolescent who runs elusive
between the bric-ŕ-brac of the district
"Bread, love and fantasy".