STRAY BIRDS
180
The sunshine greets me with a smile.
The rain, his sad sister, talks to my
181
My flower of the day dropped its petals forgotten.
In the evening it ripens into a golden fruit of memory.
182
I am like the road in the night listening to the footfalls of its memories in silence.
183
The evening sky to me is like a window, and a lighted lamp, and a waiting behind it.
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