janedoe kedvencei

On the stiff twig up there Hunches a wet black rook Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain. I do not expect a miracle Or an accident To set the sight on fire In my eye, not seek Any more in…

There is a panther stalks me down: One day I'll have my death of him; His greed has set the woods aflame, He prowls more lordly than the sun. Most soft, most suavely glides that step, Advancing always at my back; From gaunt…

Axes after whose stroke the wood rings, And the echoes! Echoes travelling Off from the centre like horses. The sap Wells like tears, like the Water striving To re-establish its mirror Over the rock…