blana

ies spre soare colturi ample
pesti de aur ore moi
diminetilor cu luna plina
portocalei stoarse-n roua fina
sarea picura cartofii
care-si schimba forma bruta
farfuria-i tine bine
si pe ea fata de masa
linisteste-n orele cele dintai
pofta sinfoniei matinale
inceputa prea de timpuriu.
aripi bat in ritm de vals
peste-a cerului tesatura
care-mbratiseaza-n bratele-i longiline
dare ce se pierd din ochi
cand ceasul inca ticaie
treptat-treptat.
patrupede colorate
in avant de vanatoare calma
stau la poza-mpresurate
doar de haina lor cea diafana.

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