misty day

Misty Day Glancing out of the window, I see the potted plant on the sill and the house on the other side of the road, the light is fading, and the plant looks as sad as a whitewashed wall in the rain whiteness is an illusion caused by the sun. Mist of grief encircles olive trees, are blank tears on my almond tree´s spindly twigs, yet inside each droplet sees a tiny world reflecting my own, only with greater incorruptibility of the untested. And far away, as a whisper, a mother sings a lullaby. « O