Waiting For The Green
I am a bare tree,
Standing alone
Leaping up
to the height of the horizon.
Empty, naked…
A witness to many of the past springs
and human tragedies…
I'm standing, lifeless,
Invisible in the city’s landscape
Without inspiring the poet's imagination,
Colourless for an artist's brush…
In anticipation of life
Once again
For the coming spring
Waiting for my limbs to reach out
To other trees
To breathe
To hear the song of birds
Constantly…
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