In a Whisper
In a whisper I am bringing the leaves
of golden autumn.
The summer, passed away with cry,
is only the burden
for the burnt out grass
I’m bringing you an only
drop on the fingers –
an unseen rainbow in all
the colors of the time.
I hold you peace at touching.
I do not utter you.
I leave you to count me
like a sigh of a child,
without memories for yesterday,
without memories for tomorrow…
(the death is only the visible
time)
And you remain – uncounted.
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