21 June 2015

sweet, windy voices
trembling along the way
red-orange apricots to be eaten

leaves, leaves close my eyes
they are speaking
walnut-tree extended in the blue

thoughts are ripened
fallen down in mulberry fruits
mute white and granular

the sun comes in my hands
threads of lights pass though the fingers
the longest day ends

mum, what are you thinking of
under the cherry tree

you were so little
you perfumed of blackberries in summer
you didn’t know about children
about a man

only you were standing toward the sun
that silently passes though the hands

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