Kad osluskujem hod ptica u sebi
zaparu praznine
napustene sjene
ocajno umijece laganja
okus ljubavi sto stari
one sto proklinju dan i visinu neba
one sto mrze noc i poruku puti
i one koje prepoznajem dlanom,
kad sve to sakupim, nadjem i zagrlim, kad se presavijem u pasu,
kad se pretvorim u skoljku,
u dah
kad osluskujem hod ptica u sebi,
zle brodove koji su zarobili nasu luku,
pomicem kazaljke na kozi tvoje ruke
i starim.
Irena Vrkljan
(1930 - 2021)
© Copyright: graphic arts; animation & design by Carmen Ezgeta
[ Irena Vrkljan ]
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