Summer Poem by Pavol Janik

Summer



The sun smashes our windows.
An urgent song reaches us from the street.
On the cellophane sky
steam condenses.
Unconfirmed reports are reproduced
about the wind.
The trees are the first to begin to talk
about the two of us.

(1981)

Saturday, October 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: summer
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kelly Kurt 17 October 2015

A lovely poem, Pavol. Thanks

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