infinite may / Ronen Klass
plains, prairies, mountain slopes
all around the infinite land
of the infinite skies, there -
hanging patiently
thousands of ripening dreams
waiting to be picked up
on the way
breathing slowly almost
motionless they await
with their eyes slightly shut
like careless drowsy seals
on the shores of leviathan bay
baskets in our hands
we travel night after night
cross the fields of infinite may,
harvesting,
following the trails of our childhood
when we used to play
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