Crossing the grass

Lignes invisibiles

Poet’s Note: The only thing, which made me suffer so much, but in the same time grow as I never imagined before, was the time I spent alone – and this was most of my life.

The little stream near the grape fields

turns into a soft valley

There once, tenderly, passed the water

Now it seems that the grass enjoys only

some fresh morning drops

That river that once was

floating over that grass

is no longer needed

Me passing this curve made of green

I cut something from down the earth,

something hidden inside the wild grass

it looks like oregano

For real when I rub it on my palms

it smells like oregano

what an excitement on that face!

I then find some deep breaths

inhaling the freshness of the oregano

and this is the moment where it starts…

the most vivid spin inside the fields


View original post 76 more words

One thought on “Crossing the grass”

Comments are closed.