From “The Songs of August”
When love is something strange,
When it’s little. Some tiny ghost…
Some awkward and unpleasant oddment,
A few appalling fragments,
Reserved and haughty conduct,
The obtuse bitchiness with mean peremptory tone,
Non-lifting boulder…
You look up to the skies and watch
The clouds… Sky flowers…
Try seeing birds or aircrafts at work
(Well, aren’t they splendid?)
Just go and clear the way,
Just breathe, inhale the freshness of the land,
Smile, say ‘Hello!’ to your blurred lake reflection
In the morning…
Is it good?
For you?
Hello?
Sky Flowers
© Copyright: Пол Фил, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №215040100210
Свидетельство о публикации №215040100210
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