Don't say
Blue silence
The never-ending poem
My death
In pockets
My destiny
In a match
And if the white birds
They return from afar
Old hopes are leaving far away
On blue ripples of horizons

I had a dream.
Like a ghost
It was wasted.
In a pastel
Now there is no one
It's not time.
Blue ripples of horizons



TT Baciu
March 2021