Night is full with absence of sleep and wind.
Wind is full with rainy optimism from hills.
Life is full with a language and no currency.
Currency is half-full with its hope and faith.
The night is full with a stick tapping sound,
The earth’s hollow makes with a watchman.
Night watchman’s mouth makes its sounds
With a blow whistle at our fullness of hope.
Life is full with words and sounds and lines
A fruit to be dropped any time on fullness.