Spring woke up this morning
with a sharp slash of wind
that shaves distant clouds has swept away.
Cobalt Sea polar counter
the green gold of the mountain between brooms
in bloom on crags.
Among the May blooms
the song of a bramble bird rises
from the farms around the cottage,
among red poppies to reveal
the advent of the warm season.
The velvety flower I barely touch,
as when, on the hedges,
I was looking for the perfume of the poppies.
Not exotic essences,
nor cascades of polychrome flowers,
but the bright red of the petals
and the yellow of its hairy bulb.
Eye with long dark and pensive lashes,
Poppy reminds me of grassy fields
of Afghanistan battered by invasion wars
between black Taliban and women in burqas
on paths of opium and despair.
Italian Architect, writer, ex teacher in Italy and also in Turkey. She is passionate about Human Rights, Peace, Education, Environment, Women’s Empowerment, sustainable Architecture.
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