Seasons

„And mom, stones were changing
into butterflies, learning how to fly.”
The child was smiling,
tears gathering in beehives
became only dewdrops.

This time I was walking along
like a shadow,
counting leaves into rivers,
returning whispers to silence,
haunted by brown and dry colors,
with my eyes moist like tender stars rising
in the summer evenings,
with my heartbeat unleashing
the cold springs waterfalls
from bygone days.

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Categories: My Poems in 2008 | Tags: , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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2 thoughts on “Seasons

  1. aloha again Cristina. I like the dream quality in this poem and the words you string together in a surprising linkage to create image. very strong.

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