Cold morning, before dawn, the fir tree
we planted on the backyard so many
decades ago sways in the wind, slowly,
so tall now. Where have the years
gone? I ask, knowing. They have gone
into this dark-green life swaying in
the wind, they have gone into the damp
graves under an iron sky.
18.05.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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