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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358348" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Severance</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was in<br>The late afternoon <br>On this sultry day in late summer, that<br>I heard<br>The sirens <br>Screaming, <br>At that time<br>I heard<br>A voice<br>Call from afar.<br>Not one sound was present, except<br>For the singing of crickets<br>And the sighing of maple trees; <br>Late summer, it was the time<br>Of the rising of the dead, <br>The falling of the leaves, <br>Stark, green, and envious, <br>Though shamelessly transforming into a<br>Putrid, mottled brown mass<br> Falling haphazardly into a heap onto the<br>Yellowing grass below.<br>Hiding beneath were the sparrows, <br>Playing their flutist’s music, <br>As wild violets wafting in the gentle breeze<br>Sang their tune in accordance.<br>The screams of the sirens were shrill and high pitched. <br>Closer and closer<br>They became, though they did not muffle the voices<br>I could still hear from afar-<br>Quiescence was shattered, as<br>Flutist’s music intensified, <br>Church bells sounded at vespers-Almost cacophonously, <br>Nearly off-key, they were, in their sound.<br>Crickets carried their tune, <br>Leaves –sea green and as damp as new moss<br>Metamorphosis into gold and red, <br>Not regal, though, daunting <br>As insects skated across the nearby creek, <br>Elusive as they could be, they lived without a care.<br>In that nearby churchyard, I stood, where<br>I could hear my calling, <br>A voice invoked my name, - my mission…<br>Sirens, shrill, were still shrieking, <br>Closer they came, as<br>Summer turned to autumn, <br>I was surrounded by the<br>Dancing of high reeds intertwining and<br>Towering fir trees.<br>Within this late summer’s squall<br>I was to be swept away.<br>I could still hear voices calling from afar, <br>No one was present- although<br>Always obedient, I was to their lurid commands.<br>Stark, green and never envious<br>Was the foliage upon the trees<br>Where I would hide in solitude behind a thicket, <br>Listening to the sparrows’ flutist’s music of the<br>First born.<br>Thunder would clap and obliterate the sound<br>Of the approaching sirens, no matter how close, <br>I could always hear that voice calling from afar, <br>Church bells were ringing.<br>Somewhere in that churchyard <br> I would hide- at vespers praying for severance<br>From fear, at that hour, <br>I heard my calling, <br>At that moment they had come to<br>Carry me home…</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Claudia Krizay</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Claudia+Krizay">Claudia Krizay</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358348" data-title="Severance de Claudia Krizay" data-description="It was in
The late afternoon 
On this sultry day in late summer, that
I heard
The sirens 
Screaming, 
At that time
I heard
A voice
Call from afar.
Not one sound was present, except
For the singing of crickets
And the sighing of maple trees; 
Late ..."></div>
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