Windstil Poem by Mario, Lucien, Rene Odekerken
Windstil
Die lug lê swaar,
soos water wat nie beweeg nie.
Bome staan stil,
takke, vingers wat niks aanraak.
Geen fluister,
geen skaduwee wat gly nie.
Net stilte,
'n asem wat nie kom nie.
Die aarde wag,
maar op wat, weet niemand.
Winstil-
die wêreld hou sy asem op.
Sunday, January 5, 2025
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8/27/2026 10:51:13 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
