H  A  I  K  U     S  P  I  R  I  T
Borijov Bukva





Scared and
quivering bird, singing
on the branch

 

 

 

 

The snow is falling
through the pine needles.
Snowflakes flying.

 

 

 

 

A girl
leaned her hand
on my shoulder.

 

 

 

 

Raindrops
float in circles
widening.

 

 

 

 

 

Barefoot.
On the forest path
grass and stone.

 

 

 

 

Morning...
A smile on a face
in the mirror.

 

 

 

 

 

I drink beer
and sit by the stand.
It rains.

 

 

 

 

 

The church on the top
of the sleepy hill sails
in the morning mist.

 

 

 

 

 

green grass
of my home - 
unmown 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Embraced
by stony wall and a rock
the old oak.

 

 

 

 

Crist on the cross         
and the locked door        
of the chapel.             





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