my white room


i never saw a moor—
i never saw the sea—
yet know i how the heather looks
and what a billow be.

e.d.



12/24/11

finally
snow

still think about it
as a magic

this lichen, in a moment became grey
like a cloud blocks the sun and eyes could not
say what happened

all the colors are blending in dark
and i can not remember the background
thinking imagining something new

dad says
wild birds are
here, living in our places
they are keen and silent
and won`t go anywhere dirty

i miss taking photos
and touching bark
teaching math and sensorial to children
in the morning.



i`m glad i`ve found
so much.








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warmly,
olga.




olga