Loves Of The Past

The loves of the past
are like the wind
and when the wind is silent
the leaves sleep.
It's almost as if they are thinking,
bored
sick of life
but the wind comes and goes
and when the wind blows,
the leaves stir restlessly
and sometimes,
if it weren't for the branches,
they would disappear along with it.

by Gianfranco Aurilio

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.