DEEP INTO THE BONE MARROW OF THE MIND

White morning, climbing

towards the low, gray hills

of the pale mid-day,

and beyond the slow

descent to the waiting

dells of the black night

coming, where stars sleep

unblinking in the dark

spinned from the white

expanse of snow

and hours deprived

of the fire that the Sun

kindles in the landscape

and the mind, Helios

caged by the winter

whiteness that bites

deep into the bone

marrow of the mind.

18.02.2025

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