Secret Poem by Sasho Ognenovski

Somebody ate this morning too…
Dry utterances of tenderness
Are merging in the breath of
The new sun's flick.
I don't know where the sunshine had hidden.
The linden trees are whispering to each other
While the morning is crying, and the yellow
Circle
Is rising on its zenith, on his
Throne.
They are playing with the shine in
My eyes.

I will never find the sunshine.