The Yellow Fountain

My photo with this yellow fountain evokes some lights on my almost skeptical mind.

Get that pen and think for a while.  Should I write or just endure the temptation of the night.

A persistent call to have some fun. To have some drink and play for a while.

I look at the watch and insist to stop the urge. The reason to reason, an alibi or treason.

Whatever I call it. There must be a reason.


The yellow fountain had shown me the way. The mind can prevail on what the eyes can’t decline.

A sudden call, a loud crying tears.  Suddenly,  an Angel appears.

To what is it that one can’t recall, on how an accident can suddenly befall.

I look at the photo and said in a jest.  Whatever it is,  the yellow fountain prevented some tears.


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