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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