Sometimes - (Talking Through My Hat) Poem by viorel petru trifan
Sometimes - (Talking Through My Hat)
to Clausius
Every morning
I escape the quilt
as a hatchling
of the shell.
Every morning
I pass from crowd of black
in crowd of blue.
When it rains
rain colors
and crowds of black and blue
fill with puddles,
puddle of colors.
Everyone
is a brush
an unseen painter
is drawing stripes with.
Sometimes it rains only in black and blue.
Friday, January 16, 2009
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4/18/2024 5:59:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
