There was a man last night
Standing across from where I sleep

He stood,
Oh so rather calmly
As he took in the image

Of me silently envisioning.
I sensed the presence
Of the man.
I looked up at him
And to my delirious bewilderment,
The man stayed,

Wearing his yellow shirt;
Ignoring the calamity that spilled from my lips:
“Who are you?”

Nothing.
“Why are you here?”

Nothing.
“What do you want?”

Nothing.
He simply watched me and pointed to the ceiling.
Beyond the ceiling to the sky;
And beyond the sky to the heavens.
Then the man in the yellow shirt left,

Without even uttering
A single goodbye.