The field
of olives
opens and closes
like a fan.
Above the grove
the sky is sunk
the rain is dark
the stars are cold.
A trembling in the rushes
and darkness falls
on the riverbank.
A ripple
through the grey air.
Olive trees
laden with screams.
A flock
of captive birds
move their long, long tails
in the shadows.
FGL (1931)
PSY (Feb. 2025)
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