on the bank of spring
i
asked a little girl about her mother.
she was drawing me the sun and a flower. She knew the waves would wipe out both, the sun and the flower.
then she put her small palms in front of the sea,
and the sea bent over like a gentle dog.
she was drawing me the sun and a flower. She knew the waves would wipe out both, the sun and the flower.
then she put her small palms in front of the sea,
and the sea bent over like a gentle dog.
sun,
flower, and Mom are there
since
forever
