viorel petru trifan
Sometimes - (Talking through my hat)
I escape the quilt
as a hatchling
of the shell.
I pass from crowd of black
in crowd of blue.
When it rains
and crowds of black and blue
fill with puddles,
puddle of colors.
is a brush
an unseen painter
is drawing stripes with.
Sometimes it rains only in black and blue.
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