Straw tones

J.B, 2016

 

My big evil grows hard alike maize
suddenly and so fills all my field
during the dry and warm summer times.
All my grass raves about damp soft soil

Ghosts of flowers and desert white lights,
empty ambitions of upset dreams, chords,
leave as sediment blankets of sleep.
Every day now turns into straw tones

 

June, 22th 2016

 

Italian version