Impassive Forest Ballad

Some of the beautiful trees
after becoming accustomed
to winnow and cut the air
for quite some time
ended like lively official papers
of my ingratitude
(getting along in peace with winds
or other important relationships
they really stood firmly in their roots
as if to be noticeable)
accusing me with calm composure
that I forgot the present moment
and after all I’m afraid of my own breath
Was it all that just a saw moan?

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Categories: My Poems in 2008 | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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