sexta-feira, 14 de janeiro de 2011
Campo de Flores
Alone like in a desert. So quiet I can hear the flapping of the petals of flowers in the field. Alone among so many colors and smells. I look above. The sky is clean and clear, as it has to be. I feel the softly petals touching my fingers. I can't see where this large field of colors ends. They are red with white stripes. Some are blue. I ask myself how someone can feel alone in such beautiful place, full of colors and life around. Maybe I just wish someone near me to share all this. This field and those flowers. I wish they were fake. Fake plastic flowers. At least would have some sense this loneness. My shadow, my only company here. Now and forever watching a large and beautiful flower field, that in the end is nothing more than colors.