We danced around the newly built fire We have wind, rain and spray in our hair Our skulls are like that black rock When I was allowed to enter the island's closed heart
By Magnani Respress2 years ago in Poets
The wild flowers are gone Frost dries nothing If grass and trees could come down from high places Dreams are willing to be just another dream
Before the land dissolves the bone-chilling cold The ice is releasing the brown earth that has held it captive all winter
The red maple of late autumn has ceased to burn The rust-colored cliffs were Shouting Is not that mountain of fire raging above my brow?
My horse galloped through the fields of paper Autumn is deep, autumn is cleaning the world God coughs on the roof, Desolation hunches down