The drought killed all dowsers

I know my angel that you were a blonde and powerful angel
turning black
don’t be scared that’s what happens in this tiny world
almost like a spiky star for the little prince
the color of the hair might change but the habits of the angels don’t
I will die only once and you will die for the last time
I trod your paths I learned your silence
I was the child empress and the girl trapped in the lilac forest
all fairy tales were dead-fully beautiful
I loved you
a face of clay I was amid those who cry and I talked water words
so the pure souls will remember me when they will see the sun
fitting under the wing of a black bird according to the laws

only then the wise one will know
he will find me amid willows and cormorants somewhere
in the Saint George’s Danube estuary
blood mixed with mud
sky full of falling leaves
long after the trees stopped breathing

Categories: My poems in 2016, Uncategorized | Tags: | Leave a comment

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