Friendly murmuring
of leaves
caressed
by an odd wind
game of shadows
and sudden flash of violent light
yellow fields
abused
by glare red Poppies
and everything
talks about love
birds singing
water rustling in a brook
frogs croaking
from afar
in a pond
over the corn-field
poetry of a painting
beyond the wall
beyond space time
in the impressive vortex
of a fleeting look
captured over all limits
by a supreme abstract sign
it’s May
