Poetry and Guitar - Spoken Word - It was cold - Hacia frio


It was cold,
a dog barked at the night
and the silence that remained
was still heavy.

It was cold,
and the snow
that was falling
left flowers with thorns.

The black and white
merged
and the coming dawn
gave it
its grayish tone
from its early glass.

Everything and nothing
came together
getting lost in the sky,
the sea and the air spoke to each other
and the silence that remained
was still heavy.

It was cold
and in the inmense stillness
of the pale emptyness
there was a single shadow
that with the swiftness of its step,
life was given to life,
and its voice began to peek through
singing cool words

and the silence that remained
now hardly weighed down on me.

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Ramaskrik

Ramaskrik

43, lesund

Norsk, bosatt i Sverige. Arbeidspendler mellom Sverige og Norge. Skriver om ting som fyller hodet, alt fra familielivet, musikk, merkelige ting som skjer i samfunnet og dikt. Jeg skriver om livet som pendler gjennom fire r. Nr det kommer til tekster jeg skriver selv, skriver jeg ikke alltid om hendelser jeg opplever her og n,det kan vre hendelser jeg tidligere har opplevd, eller noe andre har opplevd som jeg har levd meg inn i. E-post: queruelina@hotmail.com

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