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vladimir-tresPoems
I the branches don't seem like strangers they fit in greens, on greens grass waves there. Then someone will throw them away. lime in the milk of the sun.              is it ashamed of the garbage behind it?                    II Brisk is the feeling. sunlight bruises beside the leaf; below the wind when the breeze meets each shadow is like rainfall.           III             So it's you             Baby blue,             So it's you.
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May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
outside an office lot;on an afternoon;seeing a bundle of hedge-trimmings in front of a blue dumpster:
I the branches don't seem like strangers they fit in greens, on greens grass waves there. Then someone will throw them away. lime in the milk of the sun.              is it ashamed of the garbage behind it?                    II Brisk is the feeling. sunlight bruises beside the leaf; below the wind when the breeze meets each shadow is like rainfall.           III             So it's you             Baby blue,             So it's you.
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vladimir-tres
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
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