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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=462597" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When a morning got clothes pinned on the sky</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">with the garment clouds dressed in hues of sorrow</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw a blade child cutting through the breath<br>towards a flake spilled white to be washed away with snow slides</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw the ice melting into knives falling from the edges<br>of the buildings built too high to scraper aspire the limits</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw the footsteps falling apart into pools of dirt<br>that was mis-named for the first sign of spring<br>the pigeons that used to come to my window sill<br>to eat the crumbs of the words I left unspoken<br>they window pane fly around the treetops in the park across the street - that street that will never come in</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw things missing from the torn out pages of the books burned<br>in the name of new readings and old interpretations</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw them crying out at me helpless enough ever to utter them<br>saw them floating up in the sky alongside who knows where dragged clouds<br>with a tear of a lover, the thorn of the beloved<br>an eye of a baby innocently taking in the horror of growing up to the knowledge of innocence<br>the staircase sweeping the brooms<br>and the brooms flying new sticks of war<br>the owner barking at his dogs<br>little lessons of loyalty to the whip</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw the traces of the mist for a lonely traveller untrodden<br>in this oblivion lamb wombed seeking for its mother<br>cradle credo swaying in each embryo delivered<br>the painful queues of waiting for the things<br>to eventually outgrow themselves into the sky<br>that once long ago whispered to Atlas</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I never even meant to fall down on you<br>why don't you rest your hands in peace<br>I'm just a thin layer of yourself<br>that you keep boxing with you muscle thought'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Miroslava+Odalovic">Miroslava Odalovic</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=462597" data-title="When a morning got clothes pinned on the sky de Miroslava Odalovic" data-description="with the garment clouds dressed in hues of sorrow I saw a blade child cutting through the breath towards a flake spilled white to be washed away with snow slides I saw the ice melting into knives falling from the edges of the buildings built too..."></div> </div> </div>
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