When a vase, fragile and cracked,
Stands on the edge of the precipice,
For days and days,
When a soft breeze finally makes it tumble,
As it crashes into 1000 pieces against the ground,
Is it completely honest to incriminate the wind ?
©FJ Sept. 2021 – All Rights Reserved
RECUEILS / Participations
Many thanks to all.
Telegram
