Published on Friday, December 4, 2009 by admin
The sun daubs shimmering baths for the field,
everything is waiting themselves to be healed,
grateful leaves of green gather outside their lairs,
fluids of gentle rain drops silently in pairs.
The paint is to be denied by the horizon,
circular zones of time re-arrange on,
precious daubing of the sun,
switch on for another one.
Daubing of the...