duminică, 28 ianuarie 2018

Ode to a beautiful dead tree

Right in the middle of the slope
it grew alone,
away from home,
like an odd creature
with two heads
and twisted soul

In summer
you could rest in shadow
among tall grass
and clover flowers
reading imaginary letters
to imaginary lovers

One night
a thunder bolt
laid down between
its two-crowned brain
and since
that hypothetic storm
it never turned to green again

A monochrome silhouette
stood awkwardly
for days
and months
and seasons
half looking to infinity
half stretching to the forest
for no reason

Today my tree
was there no more
they cut it down
and covered
its remains
in snow






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