1. november 2013letnik XVI
wandering the creek aching for the creek of our childhood when we played on the bank chasing butterflies
after the storm on the ground around the tree children picking apples from puddles
on a winter day beneath a bright blue sky a boy walking alone and cold across a frozen pond
in the sky tonight the Space Station flashing brighter than most stars reminds me how good it feels to be so close to home
lightning thunder a peculiar smell in the air as rain begins to fall
golden sunset – a distant train whistle sounds so mournful as the wind blows and leaves fall all around
not yet light but the birds are singing to each other after such a long night in darkness waiting
falling leaves make me happy because bare trees make it easier to see the sky
the bomb did not explode – no one was killed – wouldn’t it be great if all headlines read this way?
in a cave water dripping into a dark puddle that no one sees or hears
brodim po potoku hrepeneč po potoku našega otroštva ko smo se igrali na bregu in lovili metulje
po nevihti na tleh ob drevesu otroci pobirajo jabolka iz luž
na zimski dan pod sinjim nebom hodi deček sam in premražen prek ribnika v ledu
na nebu nocoj vesoljska postaja sije svetleje od večine zvezd spomni me kako lepo je biti tako blizu doma
blisk grom čuden vonj v zraku ko začne deževati
zlat sončni zahod - oddaljen pisk vlaka zveni tako otožno ko veje veter in listi padajo vse naokrog
ni še svetlo a ptice pojo ena drugi po tako dolgi noči čakanja v temi
padanje listov me osrečuje saj zaradi golih dreves lažje vidim nebo
bombe ni razneslo – nihče ni bil ubit – mar bi ne bilo lepo če bi se vse naslovnice glasile tako?
v podzemni jami voda kaplja v temno lužo nihče tega ne vidi ali ne sliši
