agonia romana v3 |
Agonia - Ateliere Artistice | Reguli | Mission | Contact | Înscrie-te | ||||
Articol Comunităţi Concurs Eseu Multimedia Personale Poezie Presa Proză Citate Scenariu Special Tehnica Literara | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Texte Recomandate
■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2015-06-27 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
if people are trees then they are most likely to be pear trees
their fruit is at the height of the noon sun with sweet juice they too fall by themselves grubby or not with small and soft seeds because man breaks himself dropping down on the ground with smoothened teeth and bones he melts like honeycomb * at my grandma’s funeral she looked as if she lost her wrinkles in the coffin her forehead smiled to the winter sky like water from an ice hole when we got back from the cemetery we didn’t recognize her old and black umbrella standing in the corner of the bedroom everyone wondered why it was there from one hand to another we shared the wheat porridge and the clothes and the memories gathering new meanings it was colder maybe a small painted angel cried in the icon above the stove * one morning I saw a rainbow it lasted all along the road until the sky was untied from the earth
|
||||||||
Casa Literaturii, poeziei şi culturii. Scrie şi savurează articole, eseuri, proză, poezie clasică şi concursuri. | |||||||||
Reproducerea oricăror materiale din site fără permisiunea noastră este strict interzisă.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Politică de publicare şi confidenţialitate