🌺The
moment creates with a masterful hand
a
magical feast for the eyes.
But
a moment later,
something
like this
this
magic destroys the days.
Minutes
in an unstoppable stream
in
the winter days drag the summers deaf,
where
the spring juice frosts
and
the dead land is in white rush.
And
only that pink scent -
transparent
captive,
caught
behind the glass -
remembers
the long pink color:
that
it was blooming summer on the ground.
The
color died under autumn's breath.
He
still lives his tender breath. 🌿🌺🍂🎼
沒有留言:
張貼留言