sunnuntai 12. kesäkuuta 2016

The rain years

Rainy years regrow a woman's
the surface of the thick bark,
elephant skin. winter comes,
always a couple of pounds I get fat, millpond
the water waiting for the rain
the following. For a moment
landscape while gasp.
Longing grandfather clock
The heart beats of the cottage.
Woman sleeping prince
dreams of when the heart night.
For a while, she absent
the country is a utopia, but
morning always arrives too soon.
No-show Prince knight
not even a rusty Lada.
Point woman's age can recount
the one hundred year.
For a while, he belongs
yet this landscape of the world.
Then arrives the grim woman
and a cross-cut the woman's head,
the grave and the body starts to stink.

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