Word body

Am I still relevant?
asks the early spring
to the storm
over the hills

my name is rarely
in the newspaper
no one knows me
in this country

I still matter!

most people are tired now
asks the storm at last
do I still count?

you're on a roll
you say in a sweet whisper
while you stare
at my naked body of words

you stick a letter
on my shiny forehead
and I go to the rivers

behind your beautiful blue eyes
I listen to the touching echo
in your heavenly ears.


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