Wanderers

The Fairy's murmur

stirs the exhausted meanders;

the melodic breeze slackens their sensitive backs.

Venturing, on the vagabond street,

filtering through horrible and excellent spots,

with each new sight, they take in,

they witness minutes.

An unshaven narrator

gradually moves his hand over an open-air fire;

his voice smooth as 12 PM. He passages

a young man smiling with missing teeth.

A silver-haired lady

remains before her clan,

pointing at an attracting the soil,

a wolf baying at the moon.

A young lady

gazes profoundly into the palm

of an infant and guarantees

long life for the little one.

A band of three

play their string instruments,

couples stump their feet, and

get on the happy dance.

A tall performer

whirls his thumbs and a container lifts

off the ground, an inquisitive lady

jabs at the peculiarity that keeps on rising.

Individuals watch, wonder about,

furthermore, hang tight for the drifters

conveyed by the breeze.